


Romance of the Three Houses

by Kitsilver



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Minor pairings - Freeform, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2020-07-27 18:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20050915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsilver/pseuds/Kitsilver
Summary: When Byleth chose the Black Eagles, she had no idea what she would be getting into, or what Edelgard and the other students would eventually mean to her. This is their story. Follows each chapter of the game and fleshes out those moments we don't get to see.Chapter 10: Edelgard wakes from a familiar nightmare and Byleth is there to comfort her.Dreams. Nightmares. Memories that would not fade.So close to the surface. Never forgotten in the light of day.And all too often, returned in the darkness of night.





	1. The Beginning

This was _not_ how the day was supposed to go, Edelgard fumed as she struck down yet another bandit only to see another take its place. They were supposed to be doing training exercises, along with a prospective teacher, but somehow were waylaid by these bandits. The man ran off – and Edelgard could roll her eyes at the incompetence of that man, really, what kind of teacher could he claim to be if he abandoned his students -- and Claude ran too, leaving her and Dimitri no choice but to follow.

Now here they were, alone in the middle of the forest. At least they could see. Dawn was coming, and the dim gray light was just enough for them make their way through the forest and see their attackers, but they couldn’t run forever. While Edelgard had total confidence in her ability to take down these ruffians one on one, the bandits were many, and they were three. They needed to find help and soon. This would not be her end.

“Look!” Claude pointed, and in a small clearing ahead she saw the flickering light of a fire. They ran. As they got closer, Edelgard could see a horses and tents beyond a crumbling wall. And sentries, one of whom was coming to meet them with her weapon drawn.

“Halt!” she said, leveling her spear. “State your names and your purpose.”

Panting, Dimitri replied, “Dimitri, Claude, Edelgard. We’re being pursued by bandits. Forest. Need your help.”

Her eyes narrowed and she barked out orders. “Scouts, find these bandits. You,” she said, jerking her head at them, “come with me.” She led them to a house just beyond the wall.

“You are mercenaries?” Edelgard asked when she caught her breath.

“Yes.” The woman looked at her. “How did you know?”

“You hold your weapon like you know how to use it. There are no banners that I can see. And you are not trying to rob us. You are not bandits, or sworn men, so mercenaries you must be.”

A wry smile appeared on the woman’s face. She was older and looked like she had seen many battles. “You are right. Jeralt’s mercenaries. We won’t let a bunch of bandits rob children.” She looked pointedly at them. “Especially not such well-dressed children.”

Edelgard smiled even as she gritted her teeth. She was so tired of being called a child.

Two people emerged from the house. One was a tall man, broad shouldered with a grizzled face, who carried the unmistakable air of authority. This was their leader, the man named Jeralt. And beside him was…

Edelgard stopped, taken aback. She was not much older than Edelgard herself, a little taller and leaner, with a sword at her belt. But where he was a mass of energy and power, there was as stillness to her, an aura she couldn’t name. Edelgard searched her face – a beautiful face, she noted offhandedly – and met narrowed blue eyes looking at her too.

Dimitri, having now caught his breath, explained their situation fully and asked for help. Jeralt recognized their uniforms – she thought he would, it would be impossible for them to be unrecognized dressed as they were – and introduced his daughter, Byleth.

Strange, Edelgard thought, she looked nothing like her father. His features were strong, chiseled, while hers were refined. His eyes and hair were fair, while hers were dark. Where he was brute power and strength, she was lithe grace. She must take after her mother. Edelgard still could not shake this feeling that she was supposed to know this woman somehow, even though she was certain they had never met.

By now the scouts had returned and reported that bandits were just outside the village. Jeralt gave his orders and they set off to meet them. Edelgard found herself walking beside Byleth.

“You were looking at me back there,” Byleth said.

“Yes,” Edelgard replied. “But I was looking at your father too, and everyone else.”

“Yes,” now Byleth smiled and there were wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. “But do you normally stare at everyone so _intently._”

Edelgard had to laugh and shook her head. “No,” she said, meeting Byleth’s laughing eyes. “But there is something about you, mercenary. I assume you can use that sword.”

“I can,” she replied. There was absolute confidence in that answer; she liked that.

“Then show me what you can do.”

The battle was brutal and short. Edelgard fought as she had been trained all her life to fight. The axe was by its nature not a defensive weapon, made to hack and slash, to end the fight quickly and without mercy. That was how she fought, hacking one enemy then another, quickly and without mercy. This was not her first fight, not her first kill.

But even so, she made a mistake.

The battle was over, the bandit leader slain. Her axe was buried in a fallen enemy, but instead of retrieving it right away – an unarmed soldier is soon a dead soldier – she took a moment to catch her breath and looked at Byleth. She had fought well. During the fight they had found themselves fighting side by side more than once, and Edelgard could tell that she was a gifted swordsman. Fast, fluid, precise. A style of fighting that was different but complementary to hers. Byleth quirked a brow at her as she sheathed her sword, an unspoken question. Edelgard nodded and Byleth smiled.

But her smile suddenly froze, eyes wide with shock, and that was warning enough for Edelgard to turn around and see that the bandit leader lived – somehow—and was rushing toward her with his axe raised, a blood-curdling cry echoing from his lips. She drew her dagger, there was nothing else, and stood her ground, cursing herself for her carelessness.

And then, somethinghappened.

Edelgard was shoved from behind and out of the way. It was Byleth, with her sword drawn but looking the _wrong _way, toward her, protecting _her, _while her back was turned to the bandit now leaping toward her.

“No!” Edelgard screamed. There wasn’t enough time…

And then there was. A flicker of light. Time slowing.

Like a dream it disappeared into darkness. And when she could see again it was to the sight of the bandit leader rushing her again, drawing her dagger again, but instead of the shove from behind she saw Byleth stepping smoothly in front of her, sword drawn and ready. She parried the bandit easily, knocking his weapon away, and the bandit leader ran off alone.

Edelgard grabbed Byleth’s arm and turned her around to face her. “What _was _that?” In her face, she could read shock and amazement.

“You remember what happened?”

Edelgard sputtered. “Why wouldn’t I? You shoved me out of the way and were standing in front of me.” Now she remembered what that felt like, to see a girl she had only just met ready to take a blow for her, and she felt a lump in her throat. Fear, guilt? Surely not regret. All of that turned to anger and she glared at Byleth. “Why would you even do that, you don’t even know who I am.”

Byleth tilted her head. “Who are you?”

Edelgard waved her hand. “The future Emperor of Adrestia.” She didn’t stop to elaborate though Byleth’s eyes widened. “I’ll tell you more later. Right now, what was that? I _saw _you standing in front of me, facing me. And then…” she couldn’t explain it, “it was like in the next breath I was seeing it all again, only this time you were ready.”

“You really do remember.” Byleth shook her head, looking at her with confusion but also some wonder. “I don’t know what that was, honestly. It’s never happened before. But I don’t think anyone else is supposed to remember, only you do.”

Edelgard shakes her head. “Well try not to do it again. That was very strange. And also,” and here again she glared, “try not to die in front of me.”

There was that smile again, that smile that made the wrinkles appear in her eyes. “Would you be sad to see me die, Emperor?”

“Future Emperor,” she returned, without answering the question. “For now you may call me Edelgard.”

“Edelgard then,” Byleth said, and Edelgard couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt at hearing her say her name.

Foolish, she thought, and unlike her.

But there was something about her that drew her attention. And she knew that she wouldn’t stop until she figured out what that was.

Edelgard couldn’t have known that she would have plenty of time to get to know her – but as her student. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Title from Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which my brain keeps wanting to say instead of Three Houses.


	2. Of Tea and Mock Battles

“Tea parties, Father,” Byleth said dryly. “We have tea parties. Where I am expected to make…_idle_ _conversation.”_

Jeralt guffawed and slapped his knee, a huge grin splitting his face. They were having dinner in his quarters a few weeks after entering the monastery and this was their first chance to catch up. “What kind of conversation are they expecting you to have? What color should the ribbon in their hair be?”

Byleth laughed and shook her head. “Sometimes. They want to speak of many things. From the books they read to the foods they love, their favorite hobbies. It’s so strange, but I do like getting to know them.”

“I didn’t expect to see you doing so well here, honestly,” Jeralt said. “I raised you among mercenaries, in the forest or the field most of your life. I thought teaching a bunch of noble brats would be too much for you.”

“They’re not… brats, Father.” At Jeralt’s quirked brow, she had to continue. “They are children yes, and nobles mostly. But they are good people. I like being around them.”

It was true. Being with these students was nothing like what Byleth had known before. She never did tea parties or choir practices or eat such elaborate meals together. She knew how to fight, knew the rough and tumble life of mercenary, where simple meals of bread and meat were shared around a fire and most were just happy to have food in their bellies and a warm place to sleep at night. Compared to that, this place was a dream, an indulgent luxury. But, who wouldn’t enjoy a place where children could be children for a little while longer, while training for the battles to come and forming bonds that could last a lifetime. Byleth had known comradery, but not the type of friendship that she witnessed here. 

“So what else do you do besides tea parties and singing practice?” Jeralt asked.

“We train of course,” Byleth said. “There is much to teach them.” Her students had grown up with the best tutors gold could buy, but it was no replacement for actual battle experience. None but Edelgard had actually fought in a real battle before, and even she only had experience with light skirmishes. Byleth spent many days talking with them about battle strategy and terrain, how to recognize a trap, how to fight without concern for honor or nobility when one’s life was at stake. That last one was especially hard for Ferdinand, who insisted that even in battle one had to be knightly. Byleth had shaken her head. He would learn. They all would.

“You do have the mock battle coming up,” Jeralt said. “You are going to win, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” There was no question in Byleth’s mind. She was the better commander compared to Manuela and Hanneman.

“Good girl,” Jeralt said, slapping her on the shoulder. “Show these noble…children,” he said with a smile, “how it is done.” But then a serious look came over his face. “Teach them well, Byleth, but try not to get too attached. You know what you are training them for. To fight, and maybe die. Noble or not, they could fall. Do your best with them, but don’t take it too hard if they die.”

On the way back to her room, she couldn’t stop thinking about what her father said. How could she not care if her students died? In the brief time that she’d shown them, she’d gotten to know them in a way she rarely got to know anyone else. The mercenaries she had grown up with were almost all older than she, and grizzled veterans all. She had known some of their stories, some of their pasts. Some of them had homes and families to go back to, but for most, this was their life.

None of them were like her students. Hopeful, young. Dreamers, maybe? No that wasn’t the right word. There was Lindhardt, who was literally dreaming in class. But that wasn’t most of them.

There was Caspar, always getting in fights.

Bernadetta, who she was able to coax out of her room once, with cake.

Ferdinand, who really thought too highly of his noble status.

Petra, who always worked hard with her language studies and everything else, and who she was growing quickly fond of.

Dorothea, with the green eyes and nice smile, and that jaunty tilt to her cap. Byleth grinned, thinking of how Dorothea had said she was “so slim and attractive” that first day. She hadn’t meant anything by it, or that playful wink, but Byleth had still blushed. Dorothea certainly was charming.

There was Hubert, ever loyal to Edelgard.

And there was Edelgard herself. Arrogant, distant. These were the words she used to describe herself. The future Emperor of Adrestia. Byleth could see why some people would describe her that way. She was incredibly confident, which could be seen as arrogant. She did not shy away from conversation, but there was always a distance there. This sense that the person you saw extended only so far, and there was depth that no one was allowed to see. Byleth could respect that, even though she wondered why someone so young had developed armor so thick. Edelgard also cared deeply about her people and wore the mantle of authority and responsibility as easily as she wore that cape on her shoulder. How could she not admire her when, instead of crumbling beneath the weight of responsibility and destiny, Edelgard strode forth to seize it with both hands.

Soon they would fight in a mock battle. No one would die, or even be seriously hurt. But for ever battle thereafter, death was a very real possibility for them all. She had lived with it every day since she became a mercenary, and while her father had protected her, he had not shielded her.

She would be both sword and shield for her students. Even when the battles became real, she would find a way to bring them home.

_\--_

The day of the mock battle.

“Are you ready?” Edelgard asked. They were alone in the Black Eagles House.

“I am,” Byleth said. “We’re ready for this.”

Edelgard smiled. It was cool, confident, and didn’t meet her eyes. “I like your confidence, Professor. The honor of our House or the Empire doesn’t rely on this battle, but I still want to win.”

“Why?” Byleth asked.

Normally she wouldn’t ask. Of course you want to win every fight you find yourself in. But she wanted to understand her better. And if she were honest, she wanted to see a little more of the person behind the mask. She remembered the look in Edelgard’s eyes when she saw Byleth about to take the blow meant for her. She remembered the anger on her face when she told Byleth not to do that again, and not to get killed in front of her. When Byleth had asked, “Would you be sad to see me die?” Edelgard didn’t answer the question, but the slightest hint of a blush warmed her cheeks, and grew a little brighter when Byleth said her name.

When they reached the monastery, it was as if a mask fell over Edelgard’s face. No longer was she a girl scared for someone else, or a girl who could blush at hearing her name. Here, she was the leader of her house. And that left no room for fear or hesitancy or vulnerability. Edelgard had been happy when Byleth had chosen her house, and more than once she felt Edelgard watching her as she taught the students. But there was also a sort of distance there.

So Byleth asked her a question with an obvious answer to see if she could reach the girl behind the mask. 

Edelgard tilted her head, looking at her curiously. “Why do I want to win? Isn’t that obvious?”

“Yes.” Byleth paused. “It doesn’t have anything to with Claude provoking you, does it?”

“Ugh.” Edelgard rolled her eyes and groaned. That was it, Byleth thought, smiling. That was the girl she remembered. “I hate it when he teases me about being a princess. Or when someone calls me a child. At least he is the same age, so he cannot use that.”

“I imagine no one back home teases you like that.”

“No one would dare,” Edelgard said. “The Imperial Princess is not someone to be teased.” But there was the barest hint of a smile on her face when she looked at her. Byleth couldn’t resist.

“I am older than you, you know.” Byleth said. “Technically, as my student and as someone who has not come of age, I can refer to you as a child.”

“You can,” she replied. But then she shook her head. “But you would not.”

“And why not?”

The moment of levity was gone, replaced by the seriousness in Edelgard’s eyes. “You know I’m not a child, Professor,” she said quietly. “Some of the students are, but I am not.”

“I do know that,” Byleth replied, just as seriously.

They held each other’s gazes for a long time, and Byleth wondered what else there was to say. Finally she said, “Let’s win this fight.”

“I’m with you,” Edelgard said. Together they walked to the field of the mock battle. 

\--

The Black Eagles were victorious, as expected. Her students fought well, staying tightly grouped as they had been taught, covering for each other. Melee in the front, magic and archers in the back. Simple tactics for a simple fight. In the month that they had trained together, her students had learned to trust her, obeying orders when it was not immediately clear what the benefit would be. That came in handy when Hanneman attempted an ambush with his mages or when Claude attempted an arrow ambush behind a barrier. Byleth had read the terrain, seen the trap before it could be sprung, and adjusted accordingly.

When their final opponent was defeated and Jeralt declared them the victor, Caspar leaped into the air and whooped. “We did it! Yea!”

Even Bernadetta looked happy, for a moment, before looking like she wanted to retreat to her room.

“An excellent display of leadership,” Hanneman said as he walked up to them. His cheek was smudged with dirt. Caspar had been a little too enthusiastic grappling the mage to the ground. “Your House is to be commended, Professor.”

Byleth nodded. “Thank you, Professor. My students trained hard and did well. They earned this victory.” She could see her students puff up with pride at the praise. Even Lindhardt looked pleased and not sleepy for once.

“As a well-earned reward,” Hanneman continued, “a feast for the Black Eagles House!”

Gasps and whoops from her students. Byleth couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. They might be warriors and future leaders all, but in this moment, they were still children.

“Yeeeaaa butter beer!” Caspar yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

“Cake!” Bernadette gasped.

“Oh, I would so love a peach sorbet.” Dorothea said longingly.

Byleth grinned, taken in by their enthusiasm. She turned to see Edelgard looking at the other students, pride on her face, then turning to look at her. Her eyes were warm. Her smile, while small, was real.

This was what she would fight to protect, Byleth thought. Tonight they would celebrate winning a battle where the loser would be able to go home. And tomorrow, they would train for battles where even the winners would lose, and the loser would not go home at all.

She would not lose these people. They were her students, her responsibility. And she would do everything she could to help them survive the real battles to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Yes, butter beer is from Harry Potter and not part of the FE world. But given the similarities between the monastery and Hogwarts, I couldn’t resist.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter! It really made me so happy to see other people enjoying this work, and going with me on this journey. Thank you.


	3. Their First Real Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: The ratings have changed for this chapter. Mature for graphic violence.

The day you take a life is the day you stop being a child. Not completely. You might still play after, you will still laugh, and want to be with your friends, after. But you will never be the same. The innocence is gone.

Byleth had been 13 the first time she had taken a life. She had thought she was ready, had been asking her father if she could go with him on one of his missions, had shown him her sword work. And he had agreed.

"I suppose it is time.” He had looked off into the distance, pondering, then looked back at her and said, "Stay with me the whole time."

She would never forget that day. The first time she had plunged her sword into someone, seen the light fade from his eyes. Felt her hands shaking, covered in blood.

For her students, that day was today.

\--

“Caspar!” Byleth shouted, a warning. Caspar ducked in time, a bandit’s axe passing harmlessly over his head. He spun with a counter attack, sinking the blade of his axe into the bandit’s gut. He stood there panting, blood sprayed on his face, then raised his axe to her. “I got this Professor! They won’t get me!”

\--

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Bernadetta cried as she ran, jumping over rocks and roots, shooting furtive glances over her shoulder at the bandits who pursued her. They were getting close. She gasped and ran faster.

Through the Red Canyon she ran, cursing herself for getting separated from her housemates, until finally a familiar blue haired figure came into view.

“Professor!” She yelled, waving her arms wildly even as her legs churned. Byleth spun around, her sword raised, eyes going wide at the sight of three bandits chasing her before stepping between them. Smoothly she cut them down, one after another. Bernadetta gasped for breath, hands on her knees, clutching the bow she hadn’t been able to draw.

“Professor,” she said, looking at Byleth with tears in her eyes. “Can I go home now? Please?” She hiccupped, a sob catching in her throat.

Byleth looked at her with sympathy. But she put her hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bernadetta. But we have to finish this. Just stick with me, and it’ll be ok. And Bernadetta,” here she waited until Bernadetta met her eyes. “You have to shoot, ok?”

Bernadetta nodded, wiped her eyes, and followed Byleth back into the fight. When bandits attacked, Byleth defended her once again. Bernadetta returned the favor, her arrow sinking into the eye of a bandit who was flanking Byleth’s weak side.

\--

“Lindhardt!” Edelgard screamed.

Lindhardt stood frozen, his hands up but eyes wide, as a bandit charged straight for him. Edelgard ran for him but knew she wouldn’t make it on time. Cursing under her breath and running at full speed, she drew her hand axe and threw. It was thrown on a prayer, but it flew true, embedding itself in the bandit’s chest. Another bandit fell to the dark magic flying from Hubert’s hands. Hubert, running beside her as always. Edelgard was vaguely aware that was his first kill, at least the first that she knew of, but he said nothing.

What he did was walk up to Lindhardt, now that the danger had passed, and slapped him across the face.

“Wake up!” Hubert roared, face only inches away from a shocked Lindhardt. He took Lindhardt by the shirt and shook him hard. “You are going to get yourself killed, if you don’t get Edelgard or myself killed first. You have magic. Use it,” he spit out.

“Hubert,” Edelgard said. Hubert let go and Lindhardt shoved him away, angry.

“Ok!” Lindhardt said. “I froze… ok?”

“It’s all right,” Edelgard said.

Lindhardt shook his head, despair in his eyes as he looked down at his hands. “It’s not like practice,” he said. “It’s not like shooting at a straw target at all.”

Edelgard raised her hand to stop Hubert before he could reply. “I know,” she said, trying to stay calm, trying to comfort him, even while hearing the battle rage ever closer to them. “But this is what we’ve been training for. We have to fight, Lindhardt. We are not letting these bandits beat us.”

His eyes looked at her, troubled. “Will this make me a monster?”

Her heart caught. He really was an innocent, and maybe battle was no place for him. But it was where they had to be. It was where they _were, _and she needed him to fight. “No,” she said firmly, holding his gaze and willing her strength into him. “It will make you a warrior.” 

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. But when he opened them again he looked at her and nodded, and together they returned to the field. The next time they were attacked, Lindhardt didn’t hesitate, his face an impenetrable mask as he tore the bandit apart by shards of wind.

\--

The bandits were losing, but they were not giving up. Byleth had her students in a strong position, all together with boulders and the mountain at their back. Melee held the front while magic and arrows fired from the rear, and magic healed the wounds that they took.

They would hold, but something felt wrong. Byleth racked her brain, what was she missing? Then suddenly she realized: the bandit leader, where was he?

As if on cue, bandits appeared from the rocks at their back. The boulders that were supposed to be shielding them and their most vulnerable members from attack. The bandit leader appeared, and even from a distance Byleth could see the crazed look in his eyes, the bloodthirstiness of his deranged smile. He raised his arm…and pointed, and a rush of bandits roared as they came down the mountain.

“No!” Byleth screamed. She ran toward her back line, toward Bernadetta and Dorothea and Lindhardt who were now turning to face their attackers. Bernadetta fumbled her arrows at first, but then began firing, arrow after arrow into the crowd. Lindhardt too was shooting bolts of wind and flame, one after another. But it wasn’t enough. Dorothea had not mastered the use of her magic yet, and was still standing beside them, unable to fight but unwilling to run… and Byleth _would not get there in time._

With each gasping breath, with every bit of speed she could muster, Byleth ran to her students. Knowing that she would not get there in time before the bandits struck.

_Please_, she thought. Not knowing who she prayed to.

The bandits were close. She saw Dorothea look back at her, green eyes wide and fearful, then suddenly her face hardened with determination. Dorothea turned and strode past Bernadetta and Lindhardt, raised her hands and with a primal scream –

Light. Byleth came to a staggering halt, turning away as her eyes closed from the blinding light. A roar like thunder, air crackling before a storm. Then silence.

She looked up to see Bernadetta and Lindhardt crouched low, staring up at Dorothea. Beyond her the crowd of bandits lay dead, black and burned. One dead man lay only a step or two away from her outstretched hands, bulging eyes in a blackened face.

Dorothea was shaking, eyes fixed on the field of dead men. “Dorothea,” Byleth gasped when she finally reached her. Dorothea stared past her as if she didn’t see her. “Dorothea, look at me,” Byleth said, shaking her.

Finally Dorothea’s gaze met and held hers, green eyes wide and shaken, then stared down at her hands. “Professor, I…What have I…” Her eyes fluttered and Byleth caught her as she fell. Byleth lowered her to the ground, fear clenching her heart as she patted Dorothea down, looking for stray wounds. But there was nothing, no blood or arrow wounds. She was fine. Byleth breathed a sigh of relief as Dorothea stirred in her arms.

But her eyes, when they met Byleth’s, were full of anguish. “Professor,” Dorothea whispered, hands grasping Byleth’s arms. “What have I done?”

Byleth said could only shake her head, not knowing what to say, and held her tight. Thanking the goddess she wasn’t sure she believed in that Dorothea was all right. 

\--

After.

Her hands were still shaking. Dorothea looked at them, clenched her fists, and buried her hands in her pockets. If only she could make the images go away.

She went to the greenhouse, but the familiar beauty of the flowers didn’t call to her like they usually did. She wanted to avoid the dormitory, and the dining hall, because the students would just stare at her. She hadn’t been able to summon magic the entire time they’d been at the monastery, and every time she had tried, she’d barely gotten more than a tingle.

It was only last week that she had been practicing with Hanneman while Byleth stood nearby.

“Just breathe in,” Hanneman had said, his calm voice intoning. “Feel the power inside of you, feel it wanting to come through, and to come out of you.”

Dorothea had done what he’d said, closing her eyes, feeling that wellspring of magic within her. It glowed bright, shimmering like the sun, but when she reached for it…

She opened her eyes, frustrated. “I just feel like it slips away,” she said, talking to Hanneman but throwing a glance at Byleth too. She knew that Byleth was here to support her, that even though she wasn’t proficient in magic she wanted to support Dorothea while she mastered hers.

Dorothea wasn’t going to lie to herself: she liked Byleth. She was gorgeous, for one, with midnight blue hair and deep blue eyes. She was also incredibly attractive when she practiced her sword work. Dorothea had definitely lingered in the training yard more than once to watch her practice. Something about the way she moved, so fluidly, her eyes so intense and focused when she trained. But she was kind too. Byleth had only been kind to all of them, which surprised some of her classmates, none of whom had known what to expect when she became their professor. A fact which made Dorothea sigh even now, because she had the strong feeling that Byleth would not pursue anything more than friendship as long as she was her professor.

Well, a girl could dream.

For now, she had to quash the feeling of disappointment that she was letting Byleth down. “Maybe I should just focus on healing. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

Hanneman shook his head. “There is power in you, child. You have only to tap into it.” Dorothea wasn’t sure she believed him.

But then Byleth spoke, a simple, “I believe in you, Dorothea.” And ugh, the quiet confidence in her voice, the steady certainty with which she looked at her, made Dorothea’s heart skip a few beats. “Fine,” she said, deliberately looking away from Byleth and focusing on Hanneman instead. “Let’s try this again.

That was a week ago. One week ago she couldn’t summon thunder magic to save her life. And now?

Apparently, she could summon magic to save _someone else’s_ life.

But what had she done?

Dorothea didn’t know how, but she found herself sitting alone at the edge of the castle ramparts. It was a cold day and a brisk wind cut through the air, chilling the stone bench beneath her. She shivered, hugging herself, but she knew the cold wasn’t the cause.

She could still see their faces. Not all of them, but the ones who were nearby. Could still see that man with his hair and face all burned, his eyes the only white part of his face. The bitter taste of bile rose in her throat and Dorothea closed her eyes, willing the image to go away.

But then a voice came from behind her. “Dorothea,” a voice said quietly.

Dorothea gasped and turned around. Of course, it was Byleth. Her annoying heart gave a painful leap, even as part of her wanted to shrink away. She still hadn’t come to terms with what she had done. Did it change how everyone thought of her, including Byleth?

She searched Byleth’s eyes, but in them she saw only concern and caring. She felt that scared part of her let go, and she exhaled.

“I was hoping I would find you,” Byleth said quietly, as if afraid to spook her.

“Oh?” Dorothea tried to find the normal, light-hearted tone in her voice, and mostly failed. “Why were you looking for me, Professor?”

Byleth sat next to her, naked concern still on her face. “I know what happened during the battle was a surprise for you. It surprised all of us.”

“Oh, that,” Dorothea tried to wave it away. “You know, just…some… hidden talents surfacing themselves.” But her damn hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists and put them on her lap.

She couldn’t have been more surprised when Byleth placed a hand over both of hers, her touch warm and comforting. Dorothea gasped – damn, could she be any more obvious? – but she looked into Byleth’s eyes, felt the warmth of her hand, and saw again only the concern and care that Byleth had for her. She felt at once both comforted and disappointed.

“I’m here for you if you need it,” Byleth said. “That was your first, wasn’t it? The first time is always hard. And to do it in such a way.”

“Yes,” Dorothea said quietly. She took a deep breath, then huffed out something like a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Byleth only nodded, giving her space to continue if she wished.

“I just didn’t know I could do that,” Dorothea continued. “I knew, somewhere in me, was power like that. But I…I couldn’t seem to find it. Until then.” She gulped, memories of that day rushing to the fore. All of it. The utter terror at turning around and seeing the bandits rushing toward them. The helplessness of standing beside Bernadetta and Lindhardt as they fought, knowing she could not help them. The despair of feeling that the others wouldn’t get there in time. Turning around and seeing Byleth rushing toward her, knowing she wouldn’t get there in time. “I was so scared, Professor.” Her voice came in a whisper.

“I know, Dorothea,” was all Byleth said. Dorothea could see the pain in her face, could hear the regret in her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

Dorothea laughed again, a small laugh that sounded suspiciously broken. As if she was on the verge of tears. She shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault, Professor. You did a good job of protecting us.” She shrugged. “You couldn’t have known he would appear where he did.”

“I will try to remember it in the future,” Byleth said earnestly. “I am learning from these battles too. I want to protect you, all of you.” She held Dorothea’s gaze in hers. “I want to keep you safe.” 

And _that _was what did it. Dorothea felt the walls around her heart break, all the barriers that she had to protect herself, come crashing down. It had just been _so long _since someone had said that to her. Had cared so much about her. She crumpled forward, eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down her cheeks, her hands clenched to her chest as she sobbed.

She felt Byleth freeze in front of her. “Umm…”

“Just hold me, please?” Dorothea whispered. Immediately strong arms came around her, holding her tight. She felt Byleth’s head resting on top of hers. Dorothea took a big gasp of air, feeling such relief at being held, and wrapped her arms around Byleth and let herself cry. All the fear and pain and shock that lived in her since that day, washed away with her tears.

Some time later, she’s not sure how long, she realized her crying had stopped and Byleth was still holding her. Dorothea wasn’t really in a hurry to leave, she was quite comfortable in Byleth’s arms, but she supposed things like propriety still mattered and she wouldn’t want to answer their questions if someone found them like this. Reluctantly she pulled away, wiping her eyes with a sleeve and giving Byleth a watery smile.

Byleth smiled back at her. Dorothea couldn’t believe it, but she looked almost…shy? “Feeling better?”

“Much.” Dorothea looked down at her hands. They weren’t shaking anymore. “Thank you.”

Byleth nodded, the hint of a blush tinging her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

Dorothea bit her lip, looking at Byleth’s face still so close to hers, wishing that she could kiss her cheek. Just to say, _thanks. And, I like you._

But Dorothea shook her head. Byleth was her professor. She was only her student. She laughed at herself and stood up. “I will see you in class, Professor.” She got up to leave before she did something foolish.

What she didn’t see was the deep breath Byleth took after she left. Didn’t see her shaking her head and muttering, “Don’t be stupid.” Didn’t see her looking at Dorothea as she walked away, fondness and caring -- and something else -- on her face.

But she knew that Byleth cared, really cared, about her. And that was enough. When Dorothea walked away, she did so with a smile.

Thank you, she whispered, in the silence of her heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for everyone who left kudos and comments in the previous chapters. It really has meant a lot, and brings me so much happiness to see you all reading and enjoying this fic. It definitely increases my motivation to work on this story too. So thank you, again, for reading and commenting.
> 
> Also as a gentle reminder: Please no spoilers for future events in the comments.


	4. A Rebellion

It was supposed to be an easy mission. 

The Knight of Seiros will go with you, Seteth had said. The rebellion may already be over, he had said. 

And yet. 

The scout had raced out of the fog with time only to yell, “We’re surrounded!” Before taking an arrow to the back. Out of the heavy gray fog, shadows, and a familiar whistling sound. Arrows.

“Shields!” Byleth yelled, raising her shield above her head. Knights beside her were doing the same. Her students did as they had been taught, archers and mages taking cover beneath the shields of melee. Petra and Dorothea took shelter next to her as arrows rained down from above, thudding as they struck her shield. Byleth could see Dorothea’s fists clench as if she wished she do more to protect them. She and Hanneman had been working on a new technique, barrier magic that could help repel arrows, but they had only begun training and it wasn’t ready. Frustration was evident in Dorothea’s eyes when she looked at Byleth, frustration and determination. Petra crouched low, bow ready, already scanning the field for a target. Edelgard looked at her as she held the shield over herself, Hubert, and Lindhardt, her face grim as she readied her axe. 

Then from the fog came a roar, and a rush, and battle was joined. 

The swordsman was well trained even if his attack was futile. Byleth sidestepped his strike, parried, and in a few moves had sliced his throat. The peasants that followed, wielding pitchforks, were not well trained. Some of their enemies were soldiers, but many of them were villagers dressed in ordinary clothes, or at best wearing boiled leather for armor, and wielding simple spears and rusted weapons. Byleth fought on, but she could see the realization dawning on her students’ eyes. 

“Professor!” Ferdinand yelled, as he fought off a peasant with a spear. He was trying not to hurt her but was getting pushed back. “These are villagers!” 

“Yes,” Byleth said, punching a man in the face, knocking him out to avoid a killing blow. “Spare them if you can, but do not risk your lives to save theirs. You have to fight, Ferdinand!” 

He took a deep breath, then with a yell, launched his counterattack, his lance spinning. The villager had no chance, was quickly disarmed, and allowed to run away. But others were not so lucky. The students did their best to deliver non-fatal blows to the villagers, targeting knees and hands or blunt blows to the head. But they were fighting for their lives, and sometimes they had no choice but to kill. Petra had slipped in the mud and two of them attacked her at once. Byleth stepped in to shield her, killing one, grunting as she took a spear to the shoulder from the other. But before she could counter, the man’s eyes goggled in his head; he looked down dumbfounded at the hilt of a dagger sprouting from his neck. Petra yanked out her dagger and he fell, dead. She was panting, her chest taking deep gulps of air, but when she looked at Byleth there was no fear or regret on her face. Only determination. Byleth nodded and clapped her on the shoulder before continuing the fight. 

The only one who fought without care for who their enemy was, whether soldier or villager, was Hubert. Sheaths of dark magic enveloped commoner and soldier alike wherever he fought, his face hard and without mercy. 

When battle finally paused, when all their enemies were either dead or run away, Byleth and her students regrouped. 

“Damn it!” Caspar said, angry. There was blood on his axe and the metal gauntlets on his fists. “Why were the villagers fighting? What was even the point?” 

“That man Lonato is a monster,” Ferdinand said, his face pale. “Forcing his people to fight for him like this.” 

“We have no way of knowing if he forced them at all,” Edelgard said. Her tone was even. Byleth had seen her spare the ones she could, but kill without hesitation when left with no choice. “It may be that they fought for him of their own will.” 

“I too question why the villagers would fight like this,” Hubert said. “And why a minor Lord would rebel at all when he has no chance of winning.” He grimaced. “But if they attack us, we cannot let them live.” 

“I am not liking this,” Petra said. 

Dorothea said nothing, but Byleth could tell she was troubled as she healed the wound on Byleth’s shoulder. Byleth caught her eye and mouthed a thank you. Dorothea nodded, smiling slightly as she stepped away, but looking pained still. 

Catherine came striding up then, her face and armor marked by dirt and blood, but it was clear by the way she moved that none of it was her own. “Professor, a word.” 

She pulled Byleth to the side. “It’s clear that the rebellion is not finished after all. You saw the militia.” Byleth nodded. “His professional army was small, and I’m sure the knights left only a few. But based on this attack it seems his army has swelled with barely trained villagers. We have to make our way to Castle Gaspard, and there will be more on the way. Can your students take the rear?” 

Byleth nodded again and added, “We tried to spare the villagers we could.” 

“Good,” Catherine said, but there was hardness to her voice. “I would like to know what Lord Lonato told them to make them fight for him, and in these numbers.” 

They continued on to the castle. There were more skirmishes against soldiers and militia, more villagers that her students tried to spare, and many they could not. When they finally reached the castle – little more than a fort really, it was clear that Lord Lonato was a minor lord – it wasn’t much of a battle. The lord stood with the few men he had remaining, looked at Catherine with crazed anger, and shouted something before foolishly attacking her head on. A single stroke of Thunderbrand took his head, and the fight was over. 

Byleth checked on her students after. They were all tired, physically, but emotionally too. It was hard for them to fight ordinary folk like this. She gave them encouraging words, clapped them on the back, and told them they did what they had to do. She saw Edelgard doing the same, talking to each of the students and encouraging them in a quiet voice. Their gazes met, it was understood that they would talk after, and they continued tending to the students. 

When Edelgard found her after, Byleth was sitting by herself some distance from their makeshift camp. It was quiet now. Catherine and her knights were searching the castle for clues about the rebellion. The last of Lord Lonato’s men were captured and ready to be taken back to the monastery. The students were resting beneath the shade, talking quietly to each other or sitting alone, all of them subdued. 

“It was hard on them,” Edelgard said by way of greeting, sitting next to Byleth on the grass. She sighed. She was tired too, Byleth could tell by the drop in her shoulders, the way her head tilted back. She normally didn’t let it show around the other students, but she did now. “They didn’t expect to have to fight villagers today.” 

“None of us did,” Byleth replied. She shook her head. “But in a fight, you don’t have much choice. We were lucky today; the odds were not so stacked against us, so we had the chance to spare some of their lives.” 

A little smile appeared on Edelgard’s face and she looked at Byleth. “The odds weren’t stacked against us today?” She raised her brows. “Oh right, mercenary. You’ve seen this before.” 

Byleth nodded. “But this is the reality of war. You know that. We won’t always have the luxury of being able to spare our enemies. We usually don’t, even today.” 

“I know,” Edelgard said, looking at the other students. “They’re still taking it hard though. And…that’s all right for now.” She seemed to ponder something else. “I do wonder what made the villagers fight for him when it was clear that they had no chance. I saw the looks on their faces. They weren’t the look of men who were forced to fight. I have to believe that this was their choice, that they actually chose this fight.” 

Byleth agreed. 

They sat in silence for a while. Edelgard bit her lip, deep in thought, and Byleth had the feeling that she wanted to say something else. Finally Edelgard looked at her, a serious set to her face, a look in her eyes that seemed to demand and plead at the same time. “Professor,” she said, “you should know that in a way, I am not so different from Lord Lonato.” 

Byleth quirked her head. “How so?” She had seen her with the students, seen her care for them. She couldn’t believe she would throw their lives away.

Edelgard took a deep breath. “I am the future emperor of Adrestia. I too, will be the sort of ruler who is willing to risk the lives of her people for a greater cause.” 

“But not to waste their lives, surely?” 

Edelgard waved her hand impatiently. “Of course. Their lives are precious, I would not throw them away. But I also cannot hesitate to send them to their deaths if necessary. You cannot change the world without sacrifice.” 

Byleth narrowed her eyes. “And you will change the world?” 

Edelgard met her gaze head on. All fatigue had been wiped from her face, replaced by steely determination. This was the future Emperor staring back at her, Byleth knew. And she knew with absolute certainty that one day, she would be incredibly formidable. She was already halfway there. 

“Yes,” Edelgard said. “I will change the world. Even if the gods themselves oppose me, I will.” 

Byleth shook her head, smiling a little. As formidable as she was, she was still young. Only someone so young could say something so outlandish. She stood up and reached out a hand to Edelgard. “Let us hope you do not have to fight the gods anytime soon then.” she said, teasing. “We will have to get you heavier armor.” 

Edelgard looked at her and sighed, the somber tone of their conversation dispelled. She grabbed Byleth’s hand and pulled herself up. “Whatever you say, Professor.” 

Together they walked to the camp and to the students who awaited them. Nothing more was said, and the silence was a companionable one. But Byleth found herself looking at Edelgard a few times during that short walk. Studying her face, at features that had became familiar to her over the past few months. Edelgard was beautiful, with a face that could make a poet weep. A face that would one day adorn many paintings all hailing her name. Pale violet eyes that were often cool and commanding, but in very rare moments, soft and smiling. Fair hair so pale as to be almost white. But as always that same aura that hung over her like a cape, weighed down by authority and destiny. 

She was a person of seeming contradictions. On one hand, the future ruler who would sacrifice anything for a cause. On the other, the person who would risk her life to save a friend. She had known from the start how much Edelgard cared about her people; she had only seen more evidence of it as the months had passed. She had seen glimpses of the girl behind the mask, most clearly when Edelgard was with Dorothea. Byleth had passed them more than once with their heads close together, talking, smiling. Edelgard might have even giggled, once, before seeing Byleth nearby. Dorothea was allowed to call her “Edie” when no one else was, and she laughed in Hubert’s face when he told her to call her by her proper name. She’d heard Dorothea singing to Edelgard before, and while Byleth had been too far away to hear the words, she could still see Edelgard blushing. It was clear that they were close, that Dorothea could bring out a side of Edelgard that she showed to almost no one else. 

But Byleth had seen glimpses of that girl too when Edelgard was with her. Not as obvious as when she was with Dorothea, but still, something there. It was in the way she seemed to relax when Byleth was near. The way she let her tiredness show, when she always stayed so strong in front of her classmates. And the way she talked to her. Byleth had a sense that there was more she wanted to say, that there was more to her story, and to her dreams, that she wanted to share. Byleth realized that she wanted to share in her story and share in her dreams. Found herself wanting to reach out and offer comfort and friendship to this extraordinary person. 

She ignored the little voice in her heart that told her it wasn’t just respect she felt when she looked at Edelgard. That admiration was tinged with something more. That she wasn’t indifferent to Edelgard’s beauty, that she was drawn to the softness beneath the hardened mask. 

Byleth ignored all of that. 

Because Edelgard was the daughter of an Emperor and would be Emperor herself one day. 

Byleth was the daughter of a mercenary and would probably be a mercenary again one day. 

She wasn’t supposed to let herself feel anything more for her students than the desire to teach and protect. She knew herself well enough to know that she was starting to feel something for Dorothea. Was determined not to let it affect her teaching or to show favoritism in the classroom or on the field. But at least she could acknowledge that feeling was there. And maybe, one day, if Dorothea felt the same…maybe. It was possible that their paths could walk side by side. 

But Edelgard. 

The daughter of an Emperor; her destiny was too great to be entwined with hers. So she wasn’t allowing herself to acknowledge this feeling. Respect and admiration were all she would allow herself to feel for the beautiful, complicated heir to the Adrestian throne. 

But when Byleth looked at her she couldn’t help but wonder. Dorothea had said once that Edelgard was like the character in an opera, someone who could be both great and terrifying. 

She wondered what kind of character Edelgard would be. 

She wondered too, what role she would play in Edelgard’s story. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to everyone who has left kudos and comments. You caring about this fic feeds my drive to keep working on this fic, and I do appreciate it.


	5. With People You Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth makes an unexpected request, and Edelgard discovers something new.

Edelgard wasn’t sure what to think about her professor. She was a constant contradiction, a skilled mercenary who had spent her life in the woods and in the field, but somehow fit in inside this monastery with its noble and common students. Edelgard had seen her kill, quickly and efficiently, but also spare a villager for the sake of her students. She had seen Byleth wait outside Bernadetta’s room, holding a piece of cake. Had watched her patiently work with Petra, answering her questions and guiding her through the motions with the sword.

This was the Ashen Demon she had heard about? 

This was the monster who could tear through a battlefield, who bandits had learned to fear?

Edelgard had a hard time reconciling that with the woman in front of her. She looked at Byleth, not really listening to the lecture. It was the day after the fight against Lonato’s rebellion and most of her class wasn’t really listening. Even Ferdinand didn’t perk up when Byleth mentioned something about nobility and duty. She knew most of them were still bothered by whom they’d had to fight, by the ordinary men and woman they’d had to kill. That was the reality of war, Edelgard knew. And while she felt for her classmates, and planned to talk to Dorothea later, she knew it was a reality they all had to accept. Just as she had.

There could be no holding back when it came to war.

Suddenly she realized the room had gotten quiet and Byleth wasn’t talking anymore. She was looking at them all, lingering on each of their faces, the book forgotten and open on her desk.

“This isn’t getting through today, is it?” she asked quietly. Her smile was sheepish. “Right then.” She slammed the book shut, the sound reverberating through the quiet classroom. Edelgard sat up straighter and Bernadetta shot up in her chair with a distinct _eep. _“Class is dismissed for today,” Byleth continued. “Take the day off, relax, do whatever you need to do. But tonight, meet me in the dining hall after the tenth bell. Wear something you can sleep in and be ready to spend the night.”

Confused looks all around. Edelgard looked at Hubert, who narrowed his eyes and huffed at their professor. “You don’t mean to have us spend the night in the dining hall, do you Professor?” Disdain dripped from his voice.

Byleth lifted her chin and smiled, and Edelgard didn’t know how she managed to look down on Hubert without seeming threatening. “I do. And I expect to see you there, Hubert. Consider it an assignment, if you will.”

Hubert grumbled but said nothing more.

Edelgard only shook her head, still looking at Byleth, trying to puzzle out her intentions but unable to see anything passed the fond look on her face as she watched her students walk out the door. She really could not understand her professor.

\--

Edelgard walked alone through the garden. It was a beautiful day and for once the gardens were empty. She lifted her face up toward the sun, closing her eyes as she felt the warmth caress her face, smelled the roses in bloom, heard the drone of insects in the breeze. She took a deep breath, feeling her lips tilt into a smile while pleasure blossomed in her chest. She did not do this enough. There was never any time. She supposed she had Byleth to thank for that.

After that moment of indulgence, Edelgard continued on her way.

She was looking for Dorothea. She could tell her friend was bothered by what had happened yesterday and Edelgard wanted to talk to her, to see if she could help in any way. That was her duty as a house leader, and she would do it for any of her classmates, but it was more than that for Dorothea. Dorothea made her smile. She could be fierce and funny and completely irreverent when it suited her. She had no patience for the posturing of nobles, and she had never treated Edelgard, the future emperor, as anything but a friend. Edelgard could count on one hand the number of people in her life who treated her like that. Edelgard’s smile deepened when she thought of Dorothea singing the opening line of her opera, that began with _Hail the mighty Edelgard! _It was quite embarrassing, but when Dorothea had sung to her and smiled, her eyes alight with teasing, Edelgard couldn’t help but smile back. She didn’t know what the future would hold, or where her dreams would take her. But she hoped that Dorothea would stay at her side and see that future through with her.

Edelgard rounded the corner and there was Dorothea, sitting on a stone bench beneath some shaded trees, facing away from her. Edelgard raised her hand and began to call her name – only to stop when someone else said it first.

“Dorothea.” It was Byleth’s voice.

Dorothea looked up, and her face brightened when she looked at their professor. Her smile was wobbly, but still she smiled. Byleth sat down next to her, looking serious and concerned, leaning in close to talk to her while Dorothea dropped her head to almost rest on Byleth’s shoulder. Neither of them saw her, so focused were they on each other. Heart thudding, Edelgard stepped back behind the trees, still unseen.

Oh.

It felt like something was catching in her throat while she watched them, her friend and her professor. It was the way they leaned in to each other, not touching, not quite, but almost. The way Byleth looked at her with such care and concern. The way Dorothea looked back at her, vulnerable and open. Edelgard’s breath caught when she saw Dorothea’s breath catch; she looked like she was about to cry. But there was Byleth, reaching out a hand to cover Dorothea’s hand, squeezing it tight. And there was Dorothea, leaning in to rest her head on Byleth’s shoulder, curling in towards her. Byleth brought her hand up, not quite embracing her, but almost, her hand resting instead on Dorothea’s shoulder while she murmured to her.

So. That’s how it was.

Edelgard felt something tight and hot in her chest then, some feeling she couldn’t name, and she hauled in a deep breath before turning on her heel and walking away. She wouldn’t interrupt this moment for them. And she would be happy for them, she _would._

But when she thought of them in an almost embrace, when that image came so easily to mind.

It wasn’t happiness that she felt. 

\--

That night when Edelgard arrived at the dining hall, in her sleeping clothes as requested, she arrived to find it very different than what it had been that evening. Her housemates gawked at the sight of the center of the room cleared of all tables. In that open space, bedrolls complete with pillows and blankets were arrayed in a circle. In the center, a cluster of lanterns spilled light across the dark dining room, interspersed with small flickering candles that cast their warm glow on the shadowed walls. More candles lined the periphery of that space, so the whole space was one flicking wash of light in the dark.

It was beautiful. An unexpected flight of fancy, a setting for children to play and to dream. Edelgard recognized it from stories she had heard from other girls growing up, stories of giggling girls sleeping in each other’s rooms, talking late into the night. Or sitting around a campfire watching the stars, telling each other how the stars came to be. Edelgard had never experienced this, but she recognized it still. 

There was that lump in her throat again, but for a different reason. Edelgard looked around at the faces of her classmates as they took in the sight. Was that the plan for tonight?

Byleth came in then, her face obscured by the large amount of blankets and pillows in her arms. “Good, you’re all here!” she said as she put the bedding down. Edelgard swallowed, feeling that tight feeling return as she looked at her, before shaking her head resolutely. She would not let this get to her.

Byleth sat down and motioned for the rest of them to follow. “Everyone pick a seat, make yourself comfortable.” They sat in a circle, one on each of the bedrolls.

Hubert alone seemed completely unaffected by the charm of this space. “Professor, tell me again, what exactly are we doing here?”

Byleth, as always unaffected by Hubert, just smiled. That same disarming smile. “We’re here to talk, Hubert. I wanted to give us a space where we could just share what we are feeling.”

“What we are…feeling.” There was nothing drier than Hubert’s tone.

“I am not understanding, Professor.” Petra said. “Were we not talking this morning?”

Right. Petra was actually listening to the lecture this morning.

“We were, Petra. But I had a feeling it wasn’t what we actually wanted to talk about.” Byleth looked around at each of their faces in turn. “I feel that many of you are still bothered with what happened in the last battle. Or maybe you are still coming to terms with the battles before that. I wanted to give us a space to speak, without feeling like you are in a classroom.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. “What is there possibly to say?”

Byleth held his eyes, a stern look. “Whatever you wish to say. Or nothing at all. But I hope that whatever you were all thinking in class today, you can say it here.”

Silence followed that. A long silence. Her classmates looked around at each other, unsure what to say. Edelgard sighed and settled in to make herself comfortable. Indeed, what _was _there to say?

But as the silence stretched on, there was a heaviness to it, a poignancy, as if there really was something that someone meant to say. Maybe it was the flickering candlelight, how it seemed to shelter them from the darkness outside their little circle. Maybe it was seeing them all together here like this, away from battle and away from a classroom, that made people feel as if they could share something they wanted to say.

It was Bernadetta who broke the silence first.

“I was so scared,” Bernadetta said. Her knees were tucked into her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. She stared ahead, a fearful look other face. “It’s so scary to fight, and I…I still want to run away.” She buried her face in her knees, hiding. Caspar, who was sitting beside her, frowned fiercely at her. He leaned forward, as if getting ready, but shook his head and sat back down.

“It wasn’t that bad, I guess,” Caspar said. “I mean, that’s what we’re training for right? We want to beat them so they don’t beat us.”

“Ugh,” Ferdinand said. “Beating up villagers though? There was nothing noble about that.”

And just like that, the floodgates opened, and they talked_. _About everything they had been feeling in the past few weeks. How it felt to actually get out there and fight, and kill. How it felt to go up against, not just knights, but villagers. How scary it was to know that if they did something wrong, if they slipped, they would die. Edelgard had little to say, but she listened. Byleth said little as the students shared, but gently, subtly, she steered the conversation. Slowly the tone of the conversation changed from one of fear, to gratitude, when Byleth asked if there was ever a moment when it felt like their classmates were there for them.

“You helped that one time, Bern.” Caspar said, looking at the still frightened girl. “That bandit was coming up behind me, and you shot him in the face.” He smiled at her, a quirky little smile. “Thanks.” She buried her face in her knees again, face aflame, but Edelgard thought she saw a little smile there too.

“Hubert, I hate to say it, but you and Edelgard did save me that one time,” Lindhardt said. He shrugged. “I guess…I should thank you?”

“Try not to be useless in battle in the future,” was Hubert’s reply. Lindhardt rolled his eyes, and Edelgard could see Byleth fighting a smile.

“I was full of thanks for when you helped me, Professor,” Petra said, looking at Byleth. “When there were two bandits, and I fell.” She smiled brightly. “It has much meaning for me that you would keep me safe.”

“Me too,” Dorothea whispered, looking at Byleth. Their eyes caught and held, and Edelgard remembered their almost embrace earlier. She found herself, uncharacteristically, wanting to curl herself around her knees like Bernadetta.

What was there for her to say? This was far from her first fight, so there was nothing for her to process. And she was always doing the protecting, rarely did she feel herself needing someone else’s protection. Not that she wanted someone else’s protection but…

She looked at Byleth, studied her face in the flickering light. Lingered on deep blue eyes. That face, beautiful and delicate, but strong too. Lips curled in a smile. She was strong, and smart, and capable, and Edelgard _trusted_ her.

Trust.

Edelgard had always been the one to shelter and protect. Ever since she became house leader and even before, when her destiny as the future emperor was clear. It was up to her to shoulder the burden, to make the difficult decisions, to protect those under her care. Alone. Even with Hubert at her side, she had always carried that mantle of leadership alone.

But now for the first time, there was someone to share that burden with her. Someone who could be trusted to look after the people under her care, who would fight beside her to keep them safe. Who would risk her own life to keep Edelgard safe. Edelgard had never forgotten that moment in the woods, when a girl she had barely known had stepped in to save her, and time itself had turned back to stop the blade that would have taken her life.

No, Edelgard thought as she looked at Byleth. She did not want Byleth to die. Not even for her. They hadn’t known each other for very long, she should not feel so attached, and yet she did. She could not bear it if Byleth died for her.

Byleth met her gaze and across the distance, Edelgard felt as if she could see right through her, to those innermost thoughts she would never share. She narrowed her eyes, refusing to share this, and Byleth’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. She nodded once, then looked away, turning her gaze once more to the rest of the students.

“Why do you think I had you talk about all this?” she asked.

Silence for a moment as everyone pondered an answer.

“There is catharsis in sharing emotion,” Lindhardt said. “Perhaps you meant to make us feel better by allowing us to share.”

“There is that,” Byleth said with a smile. “There is something good about sharing what you need to share. There is no time for that in battle, no time even to think beyond doing what you must do to survive. But afterwards, in spaces like this, with people you trust,” and here she gestured to all of them, “you can share the things you need to say.”

She looked at each of them in turn, one after another. “This is what it means to go to war,” she said softly. “You fight and you kill, so they can’t kill you. You fight because you’re told this is your enemy, and you no choice but to fight. But in the heat of battle…you need more than that. You might have come to this fight because someone told you to be here, because you followed someone here. But you stay and you fight, for the comrades who would fall if you failed. Your friends, your housemates,” and here again, her piercing stare seemed to look through them all. “They are the people who will fall if you fail. When the fight gets hottest, and the situation most dire, they are the ones you fight for. You do not fall or fail, you fight on, so you can both make it home. That is what it means to fight.”

“But Professor…what if you really don’t like the person you are fighting beside?” Lindhardt asked.

Byleth chuckled, looking between him and Hubert. “It’s true that not everyone you fight with will be close to you. It’s true that you might not even like the person you are fighting beside.” She smiled, looking at them both. “But here in this house, consider yourself brothers and sisters in arms. As long as you are here together, fighting under this banner, you fight for each other.”

Thoughtful silence was their response. The students looked at each other with wide eyes, as if seeing each other for the first time. Edelgard found herself leaning back, shaking her head, staring at this mercenary and this teacher who she would never understand. The ability to make your soldiers care about each other so much that they would rather fight and die than abandon their comrade, that was the hallmark of a great leader, a great general. And here was Byleth doing that very thing. Crafting them into a unit that was willing to fight and die for each other. While still making them feel heard and cared for. She shook her head, amazed. Truly, what kind of leader was she?

But even then, it appeared that Byleth had one more thing left to do. She let them sit in contemplative silence for a few minutes, and when nothing else was said, she pulled something out of a large bag behind her.

A lute.

Byleth grinned as she strummed the instrument, surprising them all. “I’m not the best, but I can do a few songs. This is part of fighting too, you know? To come together after and feel that you are still alive. Don’t forget that. You are still alive. Now sing along if you know it.”

She strummed a few notes, the melody simple and familiar, and began to hum. Then she began to sing. 

Her voice didn’t soar the way Dorothea’s did. It didn’t glide smooth as silk, it didn’t hit every note, and it was lower than most. But there was so much heart in her voice, so much hope, as she sang about rainbows and a place where blue birds fly, and dreams coming true, and lullabies. Edelgard felt tears pricking her eyes as she listened to Byleth sing. It had been many years since she had heard this song. Even more years since she had believed in it. She looked up to see Dorothea looking at Byleth, her eyes shining with tears, her face alight. All around her the other students were looking at Byleth and smiling, some of them mumbling along, or humming. The next song was another slow one, familiar too, to anyone who grew up in the northern reaches of Fodlan and knew the small white flowers that grew in the tallest mountains. It was a song about home, and pride in one’s home. Edelgard found it interesting that all three nations – Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance – could claim this song, for this flower grew in all three regions. For this song, Dorothea’s voice joined in harmony to Byleth’s melody.

Listening to them together, seeing them together, Edelgard acknowledged that they really were beautiful together. She looked at them wistfully, feeling that tightness loosen in her chest, and she let it go. Whatever she might have felt for Byleth, she could let it go.

She joined in during that song, her quiet voice joining the others, and Byleth looked at her with a smile. Together they sang, and even though the others were singing too, for a moment Edelgard felt that it was just them two.

They would sing long into the night and tell stories to each other. Until the candles burned to nothing and everyone’s eyes drooped. Only then did Byleth finally urge them all to bed and they slept together, in a bundle of blankets and pillows, dreaming of a place that existed somewhere over a rainbow. At least that’s what Edelgard imagined the other students – except Hubert – dreamed of.

Curled up in her blankets, head nestled on her pillow, she watched Byleth put out the lanterns and the last of the candles before getting into bed.

When she dreamed, she dreamt of her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: Somewhere over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole //Edelweiss from the Sound of Music
> 
> Thank you for reading and supporting this fic. It wouldn’t be written without you, and it is such a joy to share it with you.


	6. A Normal Thing to Do With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite rumors of an assassination attempt on the Rite of Rebirth, Byleth has plenty of time to explore the monastery and for her students to bond with each other.

“So you don’t think an assassination attempt on Rhea is the real goal?”

Byleth paced inside her father’s quarters, worry creasing her brow. She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you broadcast an attack on the most highly guarded person in all of Fodlan?”

“Well…” Jeralt said as he stroked his beard, “The Emperor probably has more security.”

“Father,” Byleth said, stopping her pacing to look at him, annoyed. “The Emperor is not here. Please take this seriously.”

“Hmm…” Jeralt studied his daughter, wondering what had her so off balance. “The Emperor is not, but the _future_ Emperor is.” Despite Byleth’s best efforts, she couldn’t stop the tell-tale blush that crept up her cheeks. Jeralt grinned and cocked his head. “So _that_ is what this is about. You’re worried the real target is one of your students. The princess?”

“It could be any of my students,” Byleth said, avoiding his gaze. She cared about all her students and was equally concerned about their safety. Equally concerned. “The future leaders of the Kingdom and the Alliance are here too. The children of many prominent and powerful families are here. Any of them could feasibly be a target.” She clenched her first, a scowl on her face. “And I don’t like that Rhea asked my students to help with security on the day of the ritual. It pits them against an enemy we do not know or understand, and I don’t like the risk to them.”

“Rhea does things sometimes that don’t make sense,” Jeralt said dryly. “Be wary of her, Byleth. In the meantime,” he arched a brow, “you know what you have to do. What would you do when needing to scout through enemy territory with potential enemies hiding with civilians?”

Byleth took a moment to think, applying lessons learned on the battlefield to the monastery. “Have the students stay wary, stay in populated areas during the day and only go out in pairs at night. Keep their eyes and ears open for anything unusual. And I’ll look around the monastery for potential targets. If it’s not a person, maybe it’s a thing they’re after. There are supposedly many relics here.”

Jeralt nodded, clapping Byleth on the shoulder with a resounding thud. Another person might have stumbled, but Byleth stood firm. “Very good. You take care of the little ducklings—”

“Eagles, Father,” Byleth said with a sigh. They’d had this discussion before.

Jeralt grinned, the smile looking odd on his grizzled face. At least it would seem odd if you didn’t know him. “Eagles then. You take care of those students of yours and catch that assassin or thief, whoever he may be. Me and the Knights will be protecting Rhea.” He rolled his eyes. “All this trouble for a day when Seiros herself is supposed to return and walk among us. I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“Father,” Byleth said, shaking her head wryly. She didn’t believe in Seiros, but as a Knight of Seiros, you’d think her father would at least pretend to believe.

“Eh, just don’t tell Rhea I said that.”

Is it any wonder that she was not a follower of Seiros? She clapped him on the shoulder and made her way to the door.

“What’s her name, Byleth?”

Byleth hesitated, her hand on the door. There was no question as to who he was referring to, but Byleth wondered what he was asking for. Keeping her voice as neutral as possible, she turned to him and said, “Her name is Edelgard.”

“Edelgard,” he said, sounding the name as if he were turning it about in his head. “Sounds like royalty, all right. You take care of her.”

“I will, Father.”

\--

Byleth wasn’t sure how to tell her students there might be an assassin in their midst, so she opted for most direct route. 

“Everyone, there might be an assassin in the monastery.”

_Eeep!_ Bernadetta immediately made a scared chirping sound and brought her hand to cover her mouth, eyes wide, knees drawn up to her chest while she huddled in the chair. Petra sat up straight, eyes narrowed. Caspar whooped.

“An assassin! Does this mean that we get to go hunting for him, Professor?”

“There will be no hunting for assassins,” Byleth said firmly. “You are all to keep your eyes and ears open for anything that looks suspicious, and then report directly to me or Edelgard. You will _not_ hunt for them yourself,” she said, looking directly at Caspar.

He slunk a little in his chair. “Drat,” he mumbled.

“Who is this assassin intended for, Professor?” Linhardt asked, for once looking completely awake in her class.

Byleth filled them in on the supposed plot against Rhea, the Rite of Rebirth, the possibility that the true target was something else entirely. She outlined the precautions they would take and made sure they understood.

“Are there any more questions?” Byleth asked. When no one answered, she said, “You are all dismissed. Except for you, Edelgard,” she said, meeting her eyes, “please stay a moment.”

The students filed out of the room. Bernadetta ran, presumably back to her room, while Dorothea and Petra walked out together, chatting amicably as Dorothea waved goodbye. Caspar and Ferdinand headed toward the training yard. Linhardt looked as if he were ready to take another nap. Hubert bowed to Edelgard and then, after a cool look at Byleth, walked out the door.

Leaving Edelgard and Byleth alone. They had been alone before, in the classroom and elsewhere in the monastery, but now it seemed as if an awkward silence stretched between them. Edelgard’s face was carefully neutral, and while her body language suggested openness, her shuttered eyes said otherwise Byleth felt a twinge of sadness. Something subtle had changed since the night they had all spent in the dining hall. Edelgard had seemed…distant, and she wasn’t sure why. Byleth could still see her as she was then, smiling her rare smile and singing along, relaxed and happy in a way she had never seen her. 

But the next day, a new distance had formed between them. Nothing that kept them so far apart, it wasn’t as if Edelgard avoided her. But Edelgard didn’t seem to relax as much around her, didn’t seem as willing to share more than she needed to, every conversation proper and perfunctory. It had only been a few days, but Byleth had to admit -- she missed her. Even though she’d told herself that she would keep a respectable distance from Edelgard, she had missed her. 

“Is everything all right, Edelgard?” The question slipped out before Byleth had a chance to call it back. That was not what she had meant to say.

Edelgard quirked her head. “I’m fine, Professor,” she said. “Does something seem wrong?”

“You just seem…” what can she say without saying what she means? “…distracted lately.”

Edelgard shrugged. “I am just as focused as ever. Even more now, with a possible assassin on the loose.”

Byleth took a breath, recognizing that her walls were up and she wasn’t getting anywhere. “That’s what’s I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to be careful, Edelgard. We have no idea who this assassin is, or even if Rhea is their target. It could be anyone, anyone who has enemies.” She held Edelgard’s gaze, tried to see through cool violet eyes. “It could be you.”

“I understand,” Edelgard said. “As the heir to the Empire, I am well aware of the danger—”

Byleth shook her head impatiently, hair swishing on her shoulders. She stepped forward and put her hand over Edelgard’s hand. Even through the white silk glove, Byleth could feel her warmth. Edelgard went still, her eyes fixed on Byleth.

“I care about you,” Byleth said earnestly. “Yes, you are the heir, but the reason I want to protect you is…you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Edelgard nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Byleth, and in her eyes Byleth finally saw some of the mask slipping away. She smiled slightly, but it was a real smile. “Thank you, Professor. I will do everything I can to stay safe.”

“See that you do,” Byleth said, withdrawing her hand and immediately missing her warmth. She walked out the door before she said anything else she didn’t mean to say.

\--

Bernadetta faced Caspar in the training yard, her hands trembling as she held the training sword. Caspar held his training axe at the ready.

“You ready, Bern?”

Bernadetta shook her head frantically, “Nooooo—”

“Block it!” Caspar enthusiastically swung his axe at Bernadetta…who screamed and dropped her sword, falling to her knees, face in her hands as she cried. Caspar sighed, his axe a few inches from her face, and lowered his weapon. “And…you’re dead. Come on, Bern.”

“Wh-why do I have to learn this?” Bernadetta wailed. “I don’t even USE a sword in battle!”

“But you might have to,” Caspar said, exasperated. “You know what the Professor said. There might come a time when the enemy sneaks up on you and you don’t get a chance to shoot them before they’re on you. You’ll have to use a sword then.”

She shook her head, face still in her hands. He tilted his head, thinking. “Maybe you’d rather use a dagger?” He pulled a dagger from his belt and extended it to her, hilt first. “I could show you a few neat things. Like how to go straight for the gut, or for someone’s armpit if they have armor.”

Bernadetta shuddered, looking like she was going to gag. Caspar threw up his hands, still holding the dagger. “Come on, Bern! This is boring! Let’s go train.” Then his eyes lit up. “I know what will cheer you up. Let’s go!”

Bernadetta looked up, confused. “What? Where?”

Caspar sheathed his dagger and took her hand, pulling her up. “Follow me,” he said, tugging her forward.

She dug in her heels, pulling back with all her might. “Noooooooo!” She looked at him, an uncharacteristically defiant look on her face. “You’ll have to carry me. I won’t go with you!”

He shrugged. “Ok then.” He lifted her arm and with one quick motion slung her over his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

He walked out of the training yard with Bernadetta screaming at him and beating him over the shoulders. “Nooooooo I didn’t mean it literally!!!!”

\--

Dorothea and Petra watched Caspar and Bernadetta with varying degrees of amusement and confusion. 

“I…have no understanding,” Petra said, turning to her companion after the two had left. “Is this a normal thing to do with friends?”

Dorothea shook her head as she watched them go, a bemused smile on her face. “No, it really isn’t,” she replied, laughter in her voice. She turned to Petra, green eyes shining, and Petra felt her heart do a little skip. She frowned. Was there something wrong with her heart? But she had not been training more than usual, and she had noticed it only recently when she was with Dorothea. “Don’t worry about them,” Dorothea said, misinterpreting her frown, “I’m sure Bernie will be fine. Caspar is many things, but he would never hurt her.”

Petra nodded. “I have agreement.” Then she drew her training sword. “Should we continue the training?”

They took position on opposite sides of the training ring, Petra in her fighting stance and Dorothea with her hands up. Byleth had been training them on avoidance maneuvers, how to dodge close quarter attacks as a magic user and how to close on magic users as a fighter. While in training, Dorothea had learned to use only a sliver of thunder magic on her partner, enough to feel a slight shock, but not enough to really hurt. Each point would end with first touch, either with blade or magic.

“Do you have readiness?” Petra asked. Dorothea nodded. “Go!”

Petra sprinted toward her opponent, staying low to the ground with her sword at her side. Dorothea sent a bolt of magic her away, then another, as Petra dodged and rolled. But she misread the direction of Dorothea’s gaze and stopped when the familiar tingle of magic shot through her.

Dorothea looked pleased. “You have got me,” Petra said. They withdrew to opposite sides of the ring. This time, Petra was better able to guess Dorothea’s movements and closed the distance without being touched. She stopped a breath away from Dorothea, her training sword just barely touching her cheek.

“I have the point,” Petra said, smiling, breathing slightly harder than before.

“Only this time.” Dorothea replied. Her eyes sparkled with challenge. “Once more.”

Petra was able to close once again without being touched, dodging one bolt of magic after another, but when she reached Dorothea the other girl actually dodged her attack, ducking once, sidestepping twice, keeping her just off balance with quick slivers of magic. Then Dorothea sidestepped again, grasping her sword arm as it went by – sending a shock of magic down her arm.

“Ah!” Petra winced, dropping her sword.

“Oh no!” Dorothea came to her immediately, eyes concerned. “Was that too much? I’m so sorry, Petra.”

Petra shook her head as she opened and closed her fist. The tingle of magic had faded and her arm felt normal again. “I am all right.”

Dorothea took her hand, checking it for damage. Petra gulped, feeling that weird skip in her heart again as Dorothea held her hand. Maybe it was from the thunder magic? Satisfied that there was no lasting damage, Dorothea let go, and Petra felt her heart return to normal.

Strange feeling, that was.

“I am glad you’re all right,” Dorothea said.

“I have much admiration for how you fought, Dorothea,” Petra said. “You were able to dodge so well. I have not seen your feet move like that before. Where did you learn that?”

“Oh.” Dorothea thought about it. “I think it was from you.”

“Me?”

Dorothea nodded. “Yes. I have been watching you fight. And even just now, when you dodged my attacks, your moved so fluidly. Almost as if you were dancing. It made me realize that I could try the same thing.”

“I…am seeing,” Petra said, feeling heat flush her cheeks at the knowledge that Dorothea had been watching her and learning from her. “I have gladness that you learned this from me, even though I did not intend to teach it. I am thinking it will keep you safe in battle, and that brings my heart gladness.”

Dorothea smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Aww, thank you Petra. That is very sweet of you to say. I’ll do my best to keep you safe in battle too.”

Something about the way Dorothea looked at her, so warmly, affection clear in her gaze, made Petra’s heart beat faster. She coughed and took a surreptitious step back. If it was some strange ailment, she would not want Dorothea to catch it. Maybe she could talk to Manuela in the infirmary about it.

“You have my thanks, Dorothea.”

\--

“But I must prove my worth to you, Professor, as Ferdinand von Aegir!”

Byleth sighed, resisting the urge to rub her temples against the headache she could feel coming on. She had spotted Ferdinand about to leave the monastery, a spear over his shoulder, and ready to hunt down rumors about a mysterious knight in the village, one with a mask and a scythe.

“Ferdinand, for the last time, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“But it is clear that you hold Edelgard in the highest esteem!” Byleth pinched the bridge of her nose, concentrating very hard on not letting the heat in her cheeks grow to an actual blush. Could Ferdinand just say it _any louder? _Perhaps the gatekeeper on the other side of the monastery had not heard. “I must show you that I am just as worthy!”

“Ferdinand…”

“I will prove it here and now, Professor.” Ferdinand leveled his spear at her. Byleth arched a brow. “If I manage to land a hit on you, you will allow me to go. I must do what I can to protect the villagers from that nefarious scum!”

“With live steel, Ferdinand?” Byleth asked dryly. She did not draw her sword.

He faltered a bit. “Um…I suppose that its…more risky than necessary. But I promise not to hurt you!”

“Right,” Byleth said, and her tone could not have been any drier. She dropped her sword in the grass and motioned for him to do the same. “No weapons. Just fists. First touch wins.”

He threw his spear down and put his hands up eagerly, taking up a boxing stance. He looked confused when she kept her hands down, feet in a fighting stance, but her hands relaxed.

“Are you ready, Professor?”

She nodded, and with a yell he stepped forward, fists flying. Byleth did not move, allowing him to close the distance, but when he reached her she stepped to the side, deflected his strike, then casually hit him in the face with the back of her fist. It was not a hard strike, but enough to knock his head back.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing his cheek.

“Satisfied, Ferdinand?”

He sighed. “Yes, Professor. It is clear that I am not yet ready to challenge you.” He looked so forlorn then, so disappointed, that Byleth sighed. She motioned for him to face her again.

“Come on. I’ll show you how I deflected your attack and countered you.”

His eyes lit up. “Thank you, Professor!” He eagerly resumed his fighting stance.

She had to smile then. No matter how ridiculous Ferdinand was sometimes, he was always trying to be better than he was the day before. She admired him for that. She collected her thoughts, thinking of the best way to explain the technique to him, and began to teach. 

\--

Bernadetta had no idea how long they had been walking, but she was still being carried over Caspar’s shoulder. She had long ago stopped yelling and was now just simmering in indignation, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on, Bernadetta…” Caspar said. “Don’t be mad. We’re almost there.”

Bernadetta harrumphed, refusing to answer. After a few minutes he put her down, more gently than she would have thought, but she still sat there with her eyes closed, refusing to look at him. She heard him sigh.

“I still don’t get why you’re mad.”

“How would you feel if someone carried you like a sack of potatoes to who knows where???”

“Sorry…sorry.” His voice was sheepish and she imagined that he was rubbing his neck the way he did when he felt uncomfortable about something. She wondered how she knew that little detail. “But, umm…can you open your eyes now? It’ll be worth it.”

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes – and gasped.

There were on the hill next to the monastery, just outside its walls, overlooking the valley below. From here she could see the whole village surrounded by its fields that were dotted with farmer’s huts. She could spot the tall golden heads of corn, waving in the breeze, the many plots full of yummy green veggies, the setting sun casting a beautiful orange glow over it all. It was beautiful.

She looked over at Caspar who was watching her. He grinned to see the look her face. “Nice view, huh? Told you it would be.”

“It is really pretty,” Bernadetta said. But she harrumphed one more time. “But can you just, you know, walk here with me next time? Don’t carry me!”

“Ok, ok!” Caspar said, his hands up. Then he grinned. “So…I’m forgiven now?” She nodded, just once. He plopped down next to her, leaning back on his outstretched arms, looking at the sunset. “You know, I fought a guy once, totally destroyed him. But we became friends after I showed him this gorgeous view.” Caspar looked at Bernadetta. “I mean, not this view, a view from back home. Nothing like a pretty sunset to smooth everyone’s day. This other time…”

Bernadetta smiled a little, looking sideways at him as she listened to him go on and on. Normally she would be in her room right now, alone and content to be alone. But this? For some reason she didn’t mind this.

She didn’t stop to ask herself why.

\--

Byleth spent the rest of the day exploring the monastery, talking to students and professors, the gatekeepers and soldiers. Finally, she thought she had stumbled upon the assassin’s true target. She sought out Edelgard, finding her alone in the library at the end of the day.

“I think I know what it is,” Byleth said quietly, after first looking around to make sure they were alone.

“I think I know too,” Edelgard said, closing the book. “There’s a place the church values above all others. A place that will be open to the public on the day of the rite.”

“The Holy Mausoleum,” Byleth said.

Edelgard nodded and Byleth smiled, pleased that they had arrived at the same conclusion. “Let us prepare then.”

They talked long into the night, looking at maps of the Holy Mausoleum, studying its various entryways and hidden passages, as the candles flickered and burned low. Working together, they devised their plan of attack. But when Byleth caught Edelgard yawning behind her hand, eyes drooping slightly, she sent her off to bed.

“I’m fine, Professor.” Edelgard protested. But her eyes watered at the effort of holding back another yawn.

Byleth shook her head, smiling fondly at her. She stood up and gathered the books and maps they had accumulated. “I’ll walk you to your room. We can finish this in the morning.”

Byleth walked Edelgard back to her room, the silence between them companionable, the silence of the night broken only by the sound of crickets chirping as they passed. Edelgard opened her door but paused before closing it. She looked into Byleth’s eyes, holding her gaze as if looking for answers to a question she had not asked, and Byleth held still, letting Edelgard read whatever she wanted in her eyes. Edelgard smiled then, a tiny smile, and Byleth felt her heart lift ever so slightly.

There was the girl she knew. Behind the mask, behind the title.

“Thank you for walking me back, Professor.” Edelgard murmured. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Byleth said.

Edelgard closed the door softly, and only when Byleth heard the click of the latch did Byleth take a deep breath, then head to her room, already thinking of how they could improve on their plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: A few things to note.
> 
> Thank you Wolfraven80 for supporting me when I got stuck writing this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to all the readers who have commented and left kudos and subscribed. 
> 
> And one thing to let you all know: since I've finished the game, my feelings for the pairings in this fic and where it is headed have changed. Edelgard/Byleth are endgame, but I'm not sure how their relationship with Dorothea will fit. So I've changed the tags once more, and will just see where it goes. Hope to see you along for the ride. 
> 
> Thanks as always,  
Kitsilver


	7. The Ashen Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and the Black Eagles foil the attack on the Holy Mausoleum and meet a dangerous enemy.

In the darkness of the silent tomb, Byleth could hear her every breath. She held up her hand, signaling her students to wait, as unseen footsteps marched through the only entrance to the tomb.

One…two…three…she pieced together distinct footfalls, counting up to thirty. Thirty, to their nine.

Minutes passed and only when Byleth was certain that no more would come did she give the signal to advance. Silently, her students moved to cut off the exit. One final signal had them lighting the torches on the walls, each one connected so that lighting the first would light up the next, sending a bright flare of light marching down the long tomb. And what was once swathed in darkness came to life in the flickering orange glow.

The intruders turned to face them and for a moment they all just stared at each other in surprise. They were not what Byleth expected. Swordsman and archers, but led by men who wore masks, black with hollows for eyes, and pointed beaks where mouths should be, clothed head to toe in white. These were not soldiers.

“Priests?” Linhardt whispered. “What are they doing here?”

With that the spell was broken. The priest close to Byleth raised his hands and shouted, “Dogs of the Central Church. Attack!”

A fireball came flying her way. She leapt aside, rolling to her feet to block a sword bearing down on her. Arrows flew from behind as Bernadetta found her mark in the fire wielding mage. Ferdinand ran forward with a yell, spear whirling, Caspar at his side. Edelgard and Hubert fought together, her axe smashing those his dark magic did not consume. Thunder flew from Dorothea’s fingers as Petra dodged arrows to reach their target. 

When the skirmish was over, ten dead men lay at their feet, and her students were bloodied but unharmed. Byleth looked toward the end of the tomb and the path was split into three narrow passageways. They didn’t know which route the enemy took, so they’d have to cover them all.

“We split up,” Byleth said. “Capture the ones you can. We meet at the end of the tomb.”

“Professor,” Edelgard said. Her tone was wary, her eyes guarded. “Did you see?”

Byleth shook her head. It was Bernadetta who answered, “T-the D-Death Knight. He was here!”

“What?” Byleth turned to her, eyes wide. How could she have missed him? She had never seen him, but she had heard the stories, and someone called the Death Knight should be impossible to miss.

“It’s true,” Ferdinand said. “A tall man on horseback, with a scythe as a weapon. I saw him heading toward the back of the tomb when the mage attacked.”

“The Death Knight,” Caspar said, awe in his voice. He hoisted his axe. “Hoorah!”

“Caspar,” Edelgard said, giving him a warning look. His smile wavered. “Professor, that knight is a powerful enemy. Let’s do all we can do to avoid him.”

“Agreed,” Byleth said. “Make your way to the back of the tomb. Do _not_ engage the Death Knight unless absolutely necessary. Are you ready?”

They split into three groups with Byleth, Edelgard and Hubert taking the center, Caspar, Ferdinand and Bernadetta on the right, while Dorothea, Petra, and Linhardt took the left.

Byleth advanced warily, sword at the ready, as they walked into the narrow passageway. Torchlight cast their shadows on cracked gray walls, their steps echoing loudly on the stone floor. Because of the tunnel’s twists and turns, they could see only a few feet ahead and had no choice but to advance slowly. Edelgard walked beside her, axe raised, with Hubert behind. Byleth knew that they made a formidable front line, practically unbeatable in these close quarters, but she spared a moment to worry about her other students. She hoped that the main force of the enemy was here, and not there.

Her wish would be granted.

The crackle of thunder was their only warning. “Get down!” Byleth yelled. Without question, Edelgard and Hubert dropped to the floor as a shock of thunder magic rolled over them. They scrambled to their feet as swordsman rushed, their shouts echoing through the halls. Steel rang on steel as Byleth and Edelgard rose to block their swords with their shields. Edelgard’s axe struck next, burying itself in a soldier’s thick helmet. Byleth’s sword sliced forward, taking the throat of one soldier before cutting another one down at the knees. Black magic bubbled forth from Hubert’s hands, enveloping two enemies and melting them into unrecognizable goo.

But more enemies were coming. The passageway had finally opened up into the circular room at the end of the tomb, one lit by so many torches that Byleth could see the coffin at the center of it, a white clad priest chanting nearby. The seal, Byleth remembered. The coffin was guarded by a powerful seal, and if she had to bet, this mage knew how to break it. They had to get to the coffin before he did. Byleth’s eyes met Edelgard’s, and for a moment, time seemed to still. Edelgard’s normally pristine white hair was tussled, blood was smeared on her face, and she was panting slightly, trying to catch her breath. But there was no fear in her eyes, no pain, and Byleth felt her heart lift for a moment before she nodded, and together they rushed out of the passageway and into the central room. 

“Stop them!” The mage shouted. “The seal is almost broken!”

Byleth and Edelgard were met by a mob of swordsman, surrounded now without the tunnel to protect them, and they fought almost back to back with Hubert between them. They were heavily outnumbered, but even as the fighting became more intense, Byleth found herself sinking into a familiar calm.

Her breath became more even, her steps more precise, and every swing of her sword seemed to slow. It was a trick Jeralt had taught her long ago, that when fighting was the most desperate, she would just breathe, and time itself would seem to slow. He had said she seemed faster in those moments, but to her, it just felt like everyone else moved slowly. That was what it felt like now.

She ducked beneath a sword arching toward her, rising to slash him across the throat as blade sprayed on the ground. She whirled to the side with her next step, impaling a soldier who was about to strike Edelgard in the back. A movement caught her eye and she turned, pulling her sword out of the dying man and flinging it into an archer whose bow was trained on Hubert. He died with her sword in his chest. Her hands were empty when another came, shouting as he raised his sword. With a single motion, she drew the dagger from her belt, blocked his sword with her metal gauntlet, and stuck the blade in his throat. He fell, voice gurgling, fingers wrapped around his ruined throat as bright red blood bloomed between his fingers. She picked up his sword and continued her bloody work.

When Byleth finally stopped, there were no more enemies left to fight. She was surrounded by dead or dying men and her weapons dripped with blood. She wiped her face, and her hand came away red. None of it was hers. Edelgard stood nearby, breathing heavily, her axe resting on the ground. She stared at Byleth with something like surprise, or understanding, on her face. Hubert came to stand beside her and in his eyes Byleth saw something she had never seen before, not from him. Approval.

“The Ashen Demon,” Edelgard said. There was no fear in her voice.

Byleth nodded, taking a deep breath as she rose to her full height. A single mage remained, chanting frantically by the coffin, so the fight was not over. But even as she walked toward him, a thought entered her mind: she was glad Edelgard wasn’t afraid of her, even like this.

Dorothea and Petra came running up just then, Linhardt not too far behind.

“Professor,” Dorothea said, holding her jacket and looking at her with eyes wide and worried. “Are you hurt?”

Byleth shook her head. “I’m all right,” she said, as gently as possible. Then she stepped passed her to confront the mage. She stopped a few feet away, bloody sword pointed toward him.

“Surrender,” she said. “You don’t have to die.”

He laughed, a nervous, halting laugh, but then said, “You’re too late.” He clapped his hands once and the shimmering blue shield around the coffin disappeared. “The seal is broken!” Byleth got into fighting stance once again, holding the sword with both hands, as the mage reached into the coffin. 

But it wasn’t what he expected it to be. “What the…A sword?” The mage pulled a sword out of the coffin, holding it with untrained hands. Byleth wasted no time, rushing forward to strike and disarm him. But somehow the sword flew up high and she caught it easily as it fell.

It hummed in her hand, a vibration that she felt all the way up her arm. Startled, she stared at the sword. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. The shape was the same, if ornate, with a jagged edge and a spiked hilt. But it looked as if it is made entirely of…bone. And it almost seemed to sing to her, as if it were a living thing. As if it were trying to say hello.

“Professor!”

Edelgard’s warning made her look up just as the mage fired a ball of flame at her. Without thinking, knowing only that she had to protect the students behind her, she swung the sword at that ball of fire – and the flame disappeared, snuffed out as if absorbed by the sword. It glowed red in her hands, red like the flame but not hot to the touch, and Byleth had a sense that the sword was…pleased. She had no idea how she knew that, but she was certain of it. Just as she was certain that the sword felt right in her hands.

The mage backed up and fell against the now empty coffin, scurrying backward until he had nowhere left to go.

“I-Impossible,” he said.

“Surrender,” Byleth said, pointing the glowing sword at him. “Surrender and live.”

The mage put his hands up, shaking, fear evident in every quivering inch of him. Petra stepped forward to apprehend him, but as she tied the rope around his wrists, an unexpected sound broke the silence in the tomb.

A laugh, dry and rasping like a husk, echoed in the central chamber. A chill raced up her spine, the hair on her arms stood on end, as Byleth raised her sword to meet this new threat.

A lone horseman stood at the entrance of the third tunnel, seated on a horse as black as night, with spiked armor and hooves sharpened into points, and eyes glowing red. The horseman was sheathed in black armor, horns sprouting from metal pauldrons and a skull mask over his face, red lights burning where eyes should be. In his hands, a long scythe with a wickedly curved blade, glinting in the light.

The Death Knight.

“What a surprise,” the Death Knight said slowly, in his low, raspy voice.

“What do you want?” Byleth said.

From behind her, Edelgard spoke in a voice heavy with authority. “Do. Not. Engage.”

Her voice was loud enough to carry, and Byleth wondered if it was an order meant for her or for the enemy.

The Death Knight tilted his head as if amused. “Don’t you want to see if you are worthy?” He lowered the point of his scythe, leaning forward, but then another voice called out from behind him.

“Hey, Professor!” Caspar, Ferdinand, and Bernadetta came running through the tunnel then, at the worst possible time. Caspar’s eyes widened when he saw the Death Knight standing between him and the rest of his classmates.

“Caspar, no!” Byleth yelled. She thought she heard a responding groan behind her as Caspar raised his axe and with a loud, “YAAAAAHHH!!” went charging straight toward the armored horseman. Byleth could swear that the Death Knight grinned behind his smiling skeletal mask.

Byleth leapt forward, swinging her sword. She was too far away and yet – the sword changed, the blade turning into a bony whip as it sped toward the Death Knight. He made a scoffing sound as he batted the sword away, but he moved away from the tunnel, which was all Byleth needed him to do. She stood in front of her students, sword raised, as the Death Knight circled them.

“What will you do with that?” he asked. The tattered cape, red like rusted blood, fluttered behind him as he circled her. Edelgard and the other students reached Byleth and they all stood together with weapons trained on the armored knight. He didn’t seem to care, only continuing to circle them as they turned to face him.

“Are you worthy?” he asked.

And then, with a low laugh, “You really think you can defeat _me_?”

Edelgard stood beside Byleth, axe raised, and without taking her eyes off the Death Knight, Byleth could feel her fury. The Death Knight seemed to slide his eyes toward Edelgard, and Byleth stiffened, stepping forward to block his gaze. If he were to target anyone, let him target her.

But he seemed to change his mind. He stopped and lowered the head of his scythe. “We will see each other again.”

Then he was gone, disappeared in a flash of light.

They were all still for a moment, as if unable to believe that it was over, then everyone seemed to exhale at the same time. Byleth breathed a sigh of relief as she lowered her weapon. The mage still cowered by the coffin, hands covering his face, as Petra went to apprehend him. Bernadetta was beating her fists on Caspar’s chest and loudly asking why he thought it was a good idea to go charging in alone.

Edelgard looked at her, a serious expression on her face.

“Professor,” she said, pointedly looking at the sword. “What are you going to do with that?”

Byleth held up the sword. It wasn’t glowing anymore, and the humming she had felt earlier was largely gone. But she still had the strangest sense that the sword was alive, alive and talking to her.

“I don’t know,” Byleth answered. “But I must speak to Rhea.”

Edelgard’s lips tightened, but she nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! There will be more talking and less action in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks as always for reading and commenting on this fic. :)


	8. Of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth talks to someone from a dream, and to someone who is very much alive.

Byleth stood alone in her room, standing by the fireplace and watching the light dance over the sword in her hands. The sword made of bone, that seemed to come to life when she held it. Rhea had called it the Sword of the Creator, a weapon of untold power, that she was entrusting to her.

But why?

Byleth closed her eyes, focusing on the sword, and looking within. She felt the sword go warm in her hands.

_Are you there?_

There had always been a sense of something or someone with her for as long as she could remember. When she had told her father, he had said maybe it was her mother looking after her. Byleth wasn’t sure about that, she couldn’t remember her mother, but whatever it was always felt…asleep, somehow. As if it was there, but not really there. She had dreamed of it before, but the dream had always been hazy, a feeling more than anything real.

But the moment she had pulled back time, wrenching it back to save Edelgard, she had felt that thing awaken, pulled as if by the intensity of Byleth’s desire to save her. She’d had the fleeting sense of something awakening from a deep sleep, and reaching out to her, but she could never see it clearly. Whatever it was that had always been with her.

Until she’d held the sword. She’d wondered why it felt pleased, why it felt alive in her hands, why it felt familiar. Only when she’d returned to her room after meeting with Rhea did she realize why – it was the same feeling as that thing inside her. A feeling that had grown stronger and more distinct since then, and she had a feeling that if she only concentrated hard enough, she would finally be able to see.

_Are you real?_

She called out again into the darkness. And finally, something appeared. Out of the darkness something walked: a young girl, fey in appearance, with long green hair stretching to the floor. A tiara rested on her head, below which peeked long, pointed ears. She looked unlike anything Byleth had ever seen. And Byleth knew with certainty that this was the creature of which she had always dreamed.

_It is you,_ Byleth said.

The young girl smiled. _It’s about time you reached out to me. I’ve been waiting, ever since you woke me up with that little stunt when you saved that young girl._

Young girl?

_Umm…isn’t she older than you?_

The girl’s face scrunched up with a look of indignation. _Do I look like a young girl to you? _At Byleth’s silence, she harrumphed. _Well, I never. I’ll have you know, I’m far older than either of you. _She tilted her head. _I’m not sure exactly how old I am, but I am certain of that._

Byleth fought back a smile. If this was a dream, this was not what she expected it to be.

_Who are you?_

The girl looked at her with serious eyes. _I am Sothis. Beyond that, I do not know._

_Why are you here? _Byleth hesitated. _Why have you _always_ been here?_

The girl shook her head. _I do not know. Or rather, I cannot remember. But your name is Byleth, is it not? _Byleth nodded. _Strange, that I know your name with the same certainty that I know my own._

_Are you a ghost?_

The indignation on the girl’s face grew. _Again, you insult me! I am no ghost! I am very much alive. _But a look of hesitation passed over her face. _I do not know why I seem to live only inside you, and why no others can see or hear me. All I know is that through your eyes and ears, I can see and hear. And through you, I can touch the strands of time._

_Was it you who turned back time that day?_

Byleth had wondered where that power had come from. She had never felt it before, and had not felt it since. But she had not felt that sense of overwhelming need either, that need to turn back time to change what was about to happen.

Again, the girl shook her head. _I am not sure. It felt like it was coming through me to you. That was what woke me from my sleep._

_Can I do it again?_ Byleth had wondered.

_Perhaps. If your need is great. _Sothis tilted her head, as if listening to something. _Speaking of need, someone is coming to see you. _She smiled, and there was something mischievous in that smile. _Do not pretend with me. I can feel your heart beating faster when she is with you._

_What?_

_Open your eyes, Byleth._

Byleth opened her eyes, and as if on cue, there was a knock on her door. Byleth put the sword down and opened the door to see Edelgard, standing there with a serious expression on her face.

“Professor,” she said, “forgive me for visiting you at such a late hour. But there is something I wished to speak with you about. Is it all right if I come in?”

“Of course,” Byleth said, holding open the door. 

Edelgard stood by the fireplace and her eyes fell on the sword.

“So, it is the Sword of the Creator,” she said quietly. “You understand, don’t you, Professor? What this sword is?”

“I know that it was very powerful sword, wielded by someone very strong.” Byleth shrugged. “That is all I know.”

Edelgard fixed her with a steely look. “It _is _a very powerful sword. Wielded by someone who almost changed the world.” She took a deep breath, seeming to gather herself, then continued. “That is what I came to speak with you about, Professor. You are more powerful than you know. I saw that today, even without the sword. But with it…” she shook her head. “You can wipe out armies, topple nations. The most elite Imperial forces and the Knights of Seiros could not stop you.”

There was worry in her voice and shadows in her eyes that bled through her usual guarded exterior. Byleth was immediately concerned. What brought this on? “Why are you saying this, Edelgard? I am strong, I have always been, but toppling nations? Taking on the Knights? Why would I do that?”

Edelgard’s gaze held hers. “Could you do it,” she asked carefully. “If it came to that?”

“It will never come to that,” Byleth said forcefully. She stepped closer, frowning at Edelgard. Wondering why she wanted to reach out for her hand and comfort her, even though she had no idea what they were talking about. 

“And if it did?” Edelgard shot back, her tone defiant as she leaned toward her. “Even if they hurt someone close to you. Would you be able to turn your sword on them?”

Her words seem to hang in the air between them. Byleth felt herself grow still as she studied Edelgard, who was stiff with tension as she waited for her answer. Byleth didn’t understand what she was really asking or where this was coming from, but whatever made that worry appear in her eyes, she wanted to allay it. She took a deep breath and stepped closer still, close enough that she could reach out and touch her face. Edelgard’s breath seemed to hitch when she stopped closer, but she didn’t move away, didn’t take her eyes off Byleth’s face. Looking at her now, her face lit by the warmth of the fire, violet eyes serious and searching, Byleth felt her heart skip a familiar beat.

“Edelgard,” Byleth murmured, looking down at her. “I could never turn my sword against someone I truly cared for.”

I could never turn my sword against you.

Was that what she was asking? Byleth wondered. Why would she even need to ask that?

Edelgard held her gaze for a long, long moment, then finally exhaled and looked away. “All right,” she said. Some of the tension had left her and the mask that was such a constant companion slipped ever so slightly. But it appeared that she had another question to ask.

“Professor,” Edelgard said. She frowned, a crease appearing between her eyes. “When we leave the monastery…will you still think of yourself as my teacher?”

Byleth couldn’t help but huff out a short laugh and shake her head. What a strange question. Edelgard’s eyes narrowed.

“Why are you asking this, Edelgard?” Byleth said with a slight smile. “Why are you talking about leaving the monastery?”

“Because we will not be students forever,” Edelgard said, exasperated. If she were anyone else, she might have stomped her foot. As it was, she put her hands on her hips and glowered, and it seemed to Byleth that even from her shorter height, she was trying to look down on her. She really was quite adorable. “One day, I will not be your student. But…” She looked away briefly, uncertain, before meeting her eyes again. “I would still want you to be my teacher,” she said earnestly. A slight blush tinged her cheeks. “No matter what happens, after.”

And now Byleth smiled fully, warmth filling her chest at the look on Edelgard’s face and the emotion in her voice. She felt that way too, no matter what happened after.

“I will always be your teacher, Edelgard,” Byleth said softly. She looked so earnest then, looking lovely and adorable by the warm light of the fire. Her eyes looked so soft. Byleth wanted to reach out and touch her face, to caress her cheek. But she held back because that wasn’t what Edelgard had asked of her, was it? She had asked her to be her teacher, and that’s what Byleth would be. Even if she wished she could be something more.

But then Edelgard smiled at her, and there was such hope and yearning in her eyes that it took Byleth’s breath away. Edelgard never looked like this, with her guard down and her emotions free for all to see. For one moment, Byleth could do nothing but smile like a fool, her heart beating like a galloping horse in her chest. 

It was Edelgard who broke away first, looking down with a slight smile and a heightened blush on her cheeks. When she looked at Byleth again, the familiar mask had returned, but the warmth was still there.

“Thank you, my teacher,” Edelgard said at last. “The hour is late, and I should go. Thank you for your time.”

She started to go, but before she could leave Byleth reached out and held onto her hand. Edelgard froze.

“Wait,” Byleth said. Her throat was tight; she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but she wanted to say something.

“Yes, Professor?” Edelgard said, turning back to look at her. 

Byleth took a deep breath. “Edelgard, you should know that I…I care about you. Very much.” She winced, feeling awkward as Edelgard’s eyes widened. “I mean I care about all of my students, but you…” She searched for the right words, then gave up with a sigh. “You are special. I respect you…I just wanted you to know,” she finished lamely.

Mentally she groaned. She usually didn’t have this much trouble expressing herself and didn’t know why it was so difficult now. Maybe because she couldn’t tell her everything she felt, but it was important to her that Edelgard knew, right now, that she did care.

That she had always cared for her, ever since that first day. Since that first moment when she had stepped in front of a bandit’s axe for her. That she had found her intriguing and interesting and beautiful, and she had chosen the Black Eagles for her. And in all their time together, that feeling had only grown. Byleth was her teacher and she gave the orders in battle, but in other ways, she felt like they were equals, leading the students together. Sharing the burden that came with leadership, discussing tactics and planning. Byleth could think of no other person, aside from her father, who she trusted more in battle. And while there were others she could develop attachments for, and there were other people she cared about, she couldn’t recall ever feeling this sense of peace, of rightness, at having someone at her side.

Edelgard didn’t need to know all of that. But she needed to know this.

Byleth cared about her.

Edelgard searched her face, studying her as if trying to see what she was trying not to say. But she must have found some answer there, because she smiled softly, warmly.

“Thank you, Professor,” Edelgard murmured. “For everything.”

“For what?” Byleth asked.

“For choosing me – for choosing us,” Edelgard said. “It means more to me than you know.” She looked at Byleth for a long time, a tiny smile playing on her face. “Thank you.”

Byleth felt a blush heating her cheeks and she ducked her head. “You are welcome,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

Byleth opened the door. “So…goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Professor,” Edelgard said, looking at her with an expression Byleth couldn’t name, but it left her feeling warm, and her chest feeling tight as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

When Byleth closed the door, she collapsed against it with a big sigh. She held a hand to her chest, willing her galloping heart to slow.

I really am a fool, she thought.

_Yes, you are, _came the smug reply.

_That wasn’t meant for you, _Byleth shot back, frowning to an empty room.

She didn’t know that Edelgard was leaning on the other side of the door, hand up to her chest as if trying to slow a quickly beating heart, taking a moment to collect herself before walking away.

She couldn’t have known. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write. I love these two so much. Hope you liked it and, as always, thank you for reading and commenting.


	9. Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea goes fishing with Byleth and has a good talk with a friend.

It was far too early, and cold, the sun just barely dragging its way out of bed but not enough to dispel the early morning fog that hung over the fishing pond. Dorothea shivered, hands buried in the woolen pockets of her oversized coat, breath coming out in puffs from beneath the brim of her black cap.

It really was too early to be up and about, no matter how attractive her professor was.

But then Byleth stepped out of the mist, dressed in a billowy white shirt with just a hint of cleavage and rolled up sleeves that showed off her muscular arms. Tight black pants followed every curve. And that smile. Dorothea found herself grinning in return, the cold forgotten.

Oh, she had it bad.

But who wouldn’t fall for Byleth, just a little, when she looked at you with such welcome in those blue eyes?

“Good morning, Dorothea,” Byleth said. “I’m glad to see you could wake up early after all.”

“Hmm,” Dorothea replied, giving Byleth a long, slow look. “I suppose you are worth it, Professor,” she said with an obvious wink.

Byleth laughed and shook her head, clearly not taking her seriously. Part of Dorothea wished that she would, at least a little, but part of her also liked knowing that she could flirt and just ever so slightly pine after her professor without any sort of awkwardness whatsoever. There weren’t that many people in her life she could do that with. 

It was…nice.

She liked being around Byleth. That she was also incredibly nice to look at was nice as well.

“I brought your favorite tea,” Byleth said, opening the metal canteen she brought with her and smiling when Dorothea gasped, clapping her hands together in excitement. The smell of sweet-apple tea wafted into the air. Dorothea closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation when a cup of steaming hot tea was placed in her hands.

“This is so good,” Dorothea said, eyes closed as she sipped.

She could hear the amusement in Byleth’s voice when she said, “I thought that if you actually woke up before dawn to go fishing with me, it was the least I could do.”

Dorothea quirked a brow and said, “You sure know how to treat a lady, Professor.”

Byleth rolled her eyes, smiling, as she prepared the fishing pole. “You say that now, but…” she held out the wriggling worm to Dorothea, who wrinkled her nose in distaste, “I fully expect you to bait your own hook if you’re going fishing with me.”

Despite Dorothea’s emphatic _ugh_, she got the worm on the hook and Byleth cast the line into the water, the bait sinking with a quiet thunk_. _Together they sat on the edge of the dock, just watching the tiny red float bobbing on the surface of the water, as the sun continued its steady rise upward, dispelling the early morning fog in its wake. After a few minutes, Dorothea cast a sideways glance at her professor who seemed to be smiling absentmindedly at nothing at all.

“You seem happier than usual, Professor,” Dorothea said pointedly. “Has anything happened recently?” Aside from finding an ancient sword that had been lost for centuries. Dorothea still couldn’t believe that was what they had found in the Holy Mausoleum, but somehow didn’t think that was what put a smile on her professor’s face.

Byleth looked at her with a question in her eyes. “No? Nothing has happened.” But then her eyes widened ever so slightly, as if she was remembering something, and a tiny blush graced her cheeks as she looked away.

Dorothea laughed outright. “Oh, tell me!” she said, nudging Byleth’s shoulder with her own.

Byleth laughed and nudged her back, careful not to nudge too hard and dislodge her tea. “There is nothing to say!” But her eyes were shining, and Dorothea felt something tug at her heart at seeing her so happy. “I’m just happy to be fishing, is all.” She turned those shining blue eyes at her, and her heart skipped a familiar beat. “I’m glad you’re here. I love to fish, even alone, but it’s better with company. I used to fish with my father all the time.”

“Is that so?” Dorothea said, a little wistfully. There were no happy memories of her father, fishing or otherwise. And the memories of her mother…her mouth twisted, thinking of laughing blue eyes and soft brown hair and warm hugs. She didn’t want to think about the painful memories, especially at the end.

Byleth seemed to catch her change of mood, the smile falling from her face to be replaced by concern. “I’m sorry Dorothea, did I say something wrong?”

Dorothea shook her head. “No, just…memories.” She didn’t want to think about her mother just then.

“I see,” Byleth said. “It’s all right if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Dorothea flashed her a grateful smile. “Thanks.” Then something caught her eye. “Professor, is that…?”

Byleth looked at her fishing pole. “It’s a bite!”

“Really?”

They both scrambled to their feet, Dorothea putting her teacup down as Byleth reeled in the line and waited, eyes fixed on the taut line. Suddenly something seemed to tug sharply and with a decisive heave, Byleth pulled the rod back – and suddenly the fishing pole was bending even more than before, and the line was whirring, and Byleth was smiling and—

“Fish on!” Byleth exclaimed, a grin splitting her face.

“On what?” Dorothea said, utterly confused. The pole seemed to bend almost in half as the fish – she had to assume it was a fish – pulled even harder, and Byleth pulled the line in the opposite direction, not reeling in but keeping the line taut. “Professor, is that a _whale_?”

Byleth chuckled, clearly pleased. “No, though it looks like that, doesn’t it? But no, the line is light and the drag is not much. So it seems much bigger than it actually is. It’s probably no more than a few pounds.”

Dorothea shook her head, understanding the probable weight of the fish and not much else.

“Do you want to try?”

Dorothea looked at Byleth in alarm. Her professor was looking at her with open invitation, not seeming to pay attention to the fishing pole in her hands, but still able to adjust without looking.

“Oh no,” Dorothea said, hands up. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s fine, I’ll teach you.”

And that was how Dorothea found herself with a fishing pole in her hands, Byleth's hands over hers, and Byleth’s arms wrapped around her from behind. Dorothea took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm her quickly beating heart, grateful that Byleth couldn’t see her face because she could just feel how hot her cheeks were burning. If this were _anyone _else, Dorothea would be certain she was using this as opportunity to touch and to flirt. But this was Byleth, and Dorothea was equally certain that she had no idea the effect this had on her.

“See how it pulls?” Byleth said, completely focused on the fish. She showed Dorothea how to keep the pole pointed away from the direction the fish was going. "You keep the line taut, and reel in when the fish stops fighting."

It was tense and harder than it looked, but with Byleth wrapped around her, Dorothea thought that she really didn’t mind this fishing business. Then the fish leapt out of the water, the sun glistening on its silvery scales, and Dorothea gasped, instinctively raising the pole. Byleth laughed and hurriedly pushed the pole down toward the water. “Keep the line down when it jumps! So the line doesn’t break.” But she smiled at her, and Dorothea couldn’t help but smile back, her heart warming from the simple joy on her professor’s face.

When they finally got the fish – landed it, as Byleth said – it was…slimy. Beautiful in the light, its silver scales slashed by bands of white. But it was cold and strange to the touch. Dorothea knew she was making a strange face when Byleth looked at her holding the fish and laughed. Byleth took the fish and dumped it in the bucket, a pleased smile on her face.

“Excellent catch,” Byleth said. “White trout are great for frying. Would you care to join me?”

“Are the kitchen staff available this early, Professor?” Dorothea asked. “Wouldn’t they be preparing breakfast for the other students?”

“Oh, no I’ll make it myself," Byleth said. She patted her pockets. “I brought spices just in case. I hoped we would catch so that I could cook us breakfast. Fried trout on a bed of rice make for an excellent breakfast.” She smiled at Dorothea, that adorable smile that always made Dorothea’s heart beat a little faster.

The woman could cook. And she looked like _that_. It really wasn’t fair.

“Oh, Professor…” Dorothea said, with something like a sigh.

“Is that a yes?”

Dorothea laughed. “Yes! Yes I would love to join you.”

Dorothea excused herself as Byelth made her way to the kitchen with the fish. Byleth said she didn’t need Dorothea’s help to clean the fish – at least not this time – and Dorothea wanted to change into something cooler now that the sun had risen and warmed the day.

Dorothea had changed into her usual outfit and was making her way through the garden when she saw Edelgard, sitting on one of the tables and sipping tea. It wasn’t unusual for her to be out here early in the morning, enjoying the sunshine and the quiet before the garden filled with students, but there was something different about her today.

Edelgard was smiling as she sipped her tea, gaze turned inward as if recalling some fond memory. Dorothea wondered what it was that made her smile like that, when too many mornings she would come upon her friend scowling and pensive. She always seemed so burdened by something, by the crown she would wear one day, or by something else. Dorothea had asked before, what it was that troubled her so, and Edelgard would tell her about plans for the Empire or her concern for her ailing father. But even as she spoke Dorothea would watch her face, and there was sadness there sometimes, sadness heavily guarded and never shared. Dorothea wished that Edelgard would let her in sometimes, if only just a little.

“Hello, Edie!” Dorothea said, patting Edelgard on the shoulder as she sat next to her.

“Oh, hello Dorothea.”

“You seem like you’re in a good mood this morning,” Dorothea said, smiling.

Edelgard tilted her head. “No more than usual,” she said. “Why?”

Dorothea tapped Edelgard on the lips, lightly. “That smile of yours… I don’t see it that often.”

Edelgard’s eyes widened and she drew back. “You are being ridiculous. You’ve seen me smile before.”

“Hmm…” Dorothea murmured, thinking of all the times she had seen Edelgard smile…and how she had seemed to smile more often lately.

“What about you?” Edelgard said, in an obvious deflection. “You seem to be in good spirits today.”

Dorothea grinned, twirling her hair. “Oh I am. I just had a lovely morning with someone quite charming.”

“A new beau?”

“Well…” Dorothea wasn’t sure how to describe it. “She’s not a beau, exactly. I don’t think she even knows how fond I am of her.”

“Oh.” Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. “She?”

“Yes.” Dorothea met Edelgard’s eyes directly. Had she never mentioned she liked women too? “The professor, Edie.”

“Oh.” Just like that, Edelgard’s face fell, ever so slightly. She turned away with a frown -- and suddenly Dorothea understood.

“Oh…” Dorothea said, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth.

“What?”

“Edie! You and the professor?”

Edelgard’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped. But a telling blush bloomed on her cheeks. “There is nothing between me and the professor!”

Dorothea chortled behind one hand. “Come on, Edie. I’ve never known you to lie.”

Edelgard winced and shook her head. “Well…”

“_Nothing?”_

Edelgard threw up her hands in exasperation. “All right, I _am _fond of the professor. I hold her in the highest regard. And—”

“And you are not watching when she takes her shirt off after training?” Dorothea said with a straight face. “With sweat running down her face and soaking through her undershirt. You’re _not _looking?”

Edelgard groaned and buried her face in her hands, face flaming, and Dorothea could only smile. It was nice to see Edelgard like this for a change, not as the emperor in waiting, but as the girl she rarely let herself be.

“Dorothea,” Edelgard said behind her hands, “this is _highly _inappropriate.”

Dorothea laughed and brought Edelgard’s hands down so she had to look at her in the face. “But it’s true, is it not?”

Edelgard sighed. “I admit to having…a certain fondness for the professor. I care about her, and it means a great deal to me that she fights with us. But as for the future…” She shook her head, and that same sadness washed over her face again.

“Oh, Edie,” Dorothea said, taking Edelgard’s hands in her own and leaning toward her. It meant something that Edelgard did not pull away. “Why? What is it about the future that you are so afraid of?”

“There is too much at stake. Too much that I must do. I can’t afford to be distracted.” Edelgard held her gaze. “You know I am the heir. You know what that means.” They’d had many conversations about what Edelgard hoped to do as emperor, all that she hoped to change. “I am not free to choose, no matter what it is I really want. There is a path that I must walk and I…do not know if anyone can walk that path with me.”

“You can ask,” Dorothea said, exasperated.

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Edelgard’s face and she quirked a brow. Dorothea imagined that she was thinking, _really? It’s that easy?_

“Maybe one day,” Edelgard said.

Dorothea could tell that her friend was only humoring her. She huffed and said, “You can ask _me._”

“What?” Edelgard said, eyes wide. 

“Ugh,” Dorothea scooted forward so that she and Edelgard were side by side, thighs touching. She entwined Edelgard’s hand with hers and squeezed it tight. “Edie, you know that I’ve never met anyone like you, right? You say things sometimes that sound utterly crazy, like remaking a nobility structure that has existed for over a thousand years, but when _you _say it, I _believe_. I believe in this future that you say you are going to create. I want to walk that path with you. And I don’t think I’m the only one who would follow you if given the chance.”

It hung in the air between them for a moment, Dorothea’s impassioned response and Edelgard unable to respond. Dorothea watched a series of emotions flicker over Edelgard’s face, too quickly to identify before Edelgard looked away. “Thank you, Dorothea,” she murmured. “That means a great deal to me.”

Gently, Dorothea tipped Edelgard’s chin up so that she was looking right at her. Edelgard’s eyes were soft and vulnerable for once, so unlike the fearless leader she always had to be. Something stirred in Dorothea’s chest, warmth and fondness and something more, something that she had to say. 

“You know that you are one of my dearest friends, don’t you?” Dorothea whispered. “In this whole place, with so many nobles who think far too highly of themselves, you’ve never made me feel like less of a person for being a commoner. And you listen to me talk about all these men – ugh, none of them good – and you listen even though I know you have so many things you have to do. When you see me, I don’t feel like you are weighing me against the lands and fortune and power I do not have. I don’t feel like you see me as the mystical songstress, renowned for her beauty and her voice and not much else. I feel like you see me. Just… me.” Dorothea tapped a hand to her chest, while her other hand squeezed Edelgard’s hand that was still wrapped up in hers. “And it’s enough,” Dorothea said. “I feel like when you see me, I am enough. And that means a great deal to _me_.”

“Thank you, Dorothea,” Edelgard said again. There was a gentle smile on her face, and quiet, gentle look in her eyes that Dorothea had never seen from her. “You are my friend. No more, and no less, because you are a commoner. No more, and no less, because you are a renowned songstress. You are my friend, and I have not had many friends,” she finished dryly.

Dorothea chuckled. “Scared them all off, have you?”

“It’s not easy being friends with a future emperor.” Edelgard said. “Though I have wondered, at times, if Hubert had also scared them off. Not intentionally.”

Dorothea laughed. “Oh, Hubie!” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s that bad.”

Edelgard grimaced. “Have I ever told you that he threatened the professor?”

“He didn’t!”

“He did,” Edelgard said grimly. “She told me about it only recently, but apparently, soon after she joined our class, Hubert had a discussion with her. I didn’t get all the details about why Hubert felt that he had to confront her, but apparently he said, ‘If you pose a threat, I shall have to dispose of you.’”

Dorothea winced. “Yikes.

“Yes.” Some steel returned to Edelgard’s eyes as she recounted the story. “I confronted Hubert about it after and told him not to threaten the professor. He told me that he would only ever do what was in my best interest, nothing more, nothing less.” She sighed. “He can be very stubborn.”

“It is a good thing that the professor cannot be scared away so easily.”

The professor.

Dorothea suddenly gasped, remembering the professor and the breakfast that was waiting for her. She rose to her feet, Edelgard automatically rising with her. It seemed natural to keep holding onto her hand. “Speaking of the professor, I must go. We caught a fish this morning and she said that she would cook it for breakfast.”

“That sounds lovely,” Edelgard said, with utter sincerity.

“You should join us!”

“But why?” Edelgard said. “Weren’t you looking forward to sharing a meal together?”

“It will be better with you,” Dorothea said, squeezing her hand.

Edelgard chuckled. “Yes, but…after telling me you had feelings for her. Don’t you want to spend time with her?”

Dorothea shook her head, smiling. “I do not own her, Edie. I do not even think she knows how I feel about her, so I hold no claim to her. Besides, you care for her too. So why don’t we enjoy her company together? Besides,” and here she grinned, “I am quite certain she will be happy to see you too.”

“Really?” Edelgard smiled, and something seemed to light up inside her with that smile.

Dorothea couldn’t resist and pulled her in for a half hug. “Anyone with eyes can see that she is happy to see you. Now let’s go! Fried trout makes for an excellent breakfast, I hear. And who better to share it with?”

Together they walked to the dining hall, chatting all the while, with Dorothea’s arm over Edelgard’s shoulders. Walking together, as good friends do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: At its best, writing feels like I’m just hanging out with the characters, writing down what they say and trying to be as faithful as I can. I hope that this felt true to who Dorothea and Edelgard are. This was so much fun to write, and much of the second half was not what I expected. I had the fishing scene with Byleth done a while ago, and the beginning of Dorothea’s conversation with Edelgard, but the rest came later. 
> 
> Also I took some creative liberties with the fishing pole Byleth used. It’s unlikely that her fishing pole would have a reel where you could set the drag. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Thank you as always for reading and commenting.


	10. And Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard wakes from a familiar nightmare and Byleth is there to comfort her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for descriptions of torture in the beginning. Can start reading after the double break if you want to skip it.

Dreams. Nightmares. Memories that would not fade.

So close to the surface. Never forgotten in the light of day.

And all too often, returned in the darkness of night. 

\--

It was dark and cold. 

Edelgard shivered, her clothing torn and tattered, providing little protection against the damp and cold. Both arms stretched overhead, manacled to a post, numb. Her feet dangled inches from the ground. The silence was broken only by the sound of her ragged breathing and the scratching of rats on the stone floor.

Eyes clenched shut, she thought of anywhere but here. In the dark and cold.

\--

It was the thud of wood on flesh.

“No!” Edelgard yelled, desperately reaching between the bars of her cell, unable to do anything but watch as her brother was beaten, over and over again. Saying nothing as kept his arms wrapped around their baby sister.

Only when he finally fell did the beating end.

\--

It was the stillness.

Her sister lay unmoving. Eyes open but seeing nothing. Chest rising and falling, alive still. Her body bruised, but skin unbroken. Her face a blank slate. 

“Sister, please,” Edelgard said, kneeling at her side and shaking her, trying to wake her from the sleep that was not sleep, the imprisoned wakefulness.

There was no answer. She would never answer her again.

\--

And a blade slicing her flesh.

Her scream was muffled by the stick between her teeth. Tears leaked from her eyes. Spread-eagled on the table, wrists chafed from the ropes that held her down, powerless to stop the steel that cut her again, and again. First her legs. Then her arms. Then her chest.

A voice she would never forget, a cackle of a laugh.

“You’ll thank me for this one day.”

The sudden crack of her ribs as they broke. She screamed.

\--

Then one day.

Edelgard clenched her fists, teeth still wrapped around that damn stick that had muffled her screams. Spread-eagled still, hands and feet bound. Blood leaked from a split lip. But it would not be the same this day.

Her torturer clucked as he looked over her wounds, replaced the bandages that covered healing ribs. There was pain still, but strength in her limbs that didn’t exist before, a clarity in her mind where before there was only fog. And the rope on her wrists were fraying.

“You should be healing better than this,” he muttered. He leaned in close, peering into her eyes. “Did we fail after all?”

She spat the stick in his eye, snapped the ropes and tore herself free, then leapt onto him. She smashed her fist into his face and felt the satisfying crunch of bone.

“You will never touch me again. Monster!”

She hit him again and again until his blood stained the stone. When his face was nothing but a ruined, bloody mess, she stopped.

Panting, she threw back her head and screamed. Long and loud, on and on, for the anguish and pain she had never been able to express in all the long days and nights of darkness. For her siblings who would never see the light of day again. For the madness that had threatened to take her mind and cast her into the eternal dark. 

She screamed on and on, a scream like a roar.

\--

\--

Byleth put her hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, worry creasing her brow. She had heard screams and rushed to Edelgard’s side, only to find her alone in her room, face contorted as if in pain and her body curled into a ball. Byleth had checked her briefly but found no wounds, nothing amiss, but still she would not wake.

“Edelgard,” Byleth said, her voice rough as she shook her more forcefully than before. “Wake up!”

Edelgard’s eyes snapped open, latching onto her in the dim candlelight, eyes open but unseeing. Before Byleth could react, Edelgard lunged at her. Byleth landed on the floor with a loud oomph with Edelgard straddling her. She lashed out, Byleth barely deflecting in time.

“Edelgard, stop!” Byleth cried, but Edelgard did not answer. They struggled, Byleth trying to gain control without hurting the other girl while Edelgard kept fighting, locked into battle with someone she could not see. Byleth was certain Edelgard did not realize it was her. Finally, Byleth locked both of Edelgard’s hands in hers, planted her feet, and threw her weight over to the side, rolling them both so that Edelgard was on her back and Byleth on top.

“Edelgard, it’s me_._” Byleth said urgently, holding both her hands down. “It’s Byleth. Please -- _wake up!” _

And finally, Edelgard stopped struggling. She shook her head, frowning, as if to clear the vestiges of a dream. “Byleth…?”

“It’s me.” Byleth said, releasing her hands slowly and starting to back away. But Edelgard reached out and held onto her hands as if to anchor herself. She closed her eyes for a long moment, and when she opened them again it was the Edelgard she knew looking back at her. Relief rushed through her.

“There you are,” she said gently.

“Professor…” Edelgard said, confusion evident in her voice. She looked around. They were on the floor by her bed. Byleth was still straddling her, unable to move away with Edelgard’s hands trapping hers. “What happened?” 

“You had a nightmare. You don’t remember?”

“Vaguely.” Edelgard frowned. Then she seemed to realize that she was holding Byleth captive and released her hands abruptly with a quiet, “Oh.” Byleth couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but it looked like a slight blush marred her cheeks. Byleth got off and sat next to her. Edelgard sat up, leaning against the bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She seemed lost in thought, gaze turned inward, and Byleth gave her time to collect herself. But not before sweeping the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around Edelgard’s shoulders. It was cold tonight and she was only in a thin nightgown. Edelgard flashed her a smile, wrapped the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, and returned to her thoughts. Byleth was content to wait.

After several minutes, Edelgard took a deep breath and looked at Byleth squarely. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Her gaze focused on Byleth’s face. She touched her cheek gently. “I’m sorry, did I hit you?”

Byleth shook her head. “It’s fine. Maybe you caught me once or twice,” she said with a smile, “but it’s fine.”

Edelgard shook her head as she dropped her hand. “That doesn’t usually happen,” she said. “I’ve gotten nightmares before but…usually my door is locked,” she said, looking askance at Byleth.

“Oh, it was,” Byleth said. She gestured to the keys at her belt. “Professors all have keys to student rooms. Just for safety. I heard you and I thought you were in trouble, so I came to help.”

“I see,” Edelgard said with a bemused smile. “Thank you, professor.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose you’ll want to know…” she made a waving gesture, “what that was.”

Byleth waited for Edelgard to meet her gaze again before saying, “You can tell me anything you want, Edelgard. Or nothing at all.”

Edelgard shook her head, smiling for real now. “I don’t know how you do it, Professor. But…” her eyes were soft when they looked at her, “you make me want to say things I haven’t told anyone else before.” She took another deep breath.

“Do you know anything about my family?” she began, her gaze distant. Byleth shook her head. “I had ten siblings, eight older and two younger.” There was fondness on her face, sadness in her voice. “We were a handful as children. Loud and rambunctious and disobedient. My eldest brother was always so solid and steady, a worthy heir to the throne. But the rest of us…” she shook her head, smiling as if reliving a fond memory, “I think Father was glad that our brother was such a worthy heir, because he despaired of ever having to choose one of us. I was one of the youngest, so…I was never expected to succeed the throne.”

Edelgard stopped, her throat working. Her gaze was hard when she looked at Byleth. “But then they died. Driven by madness or exhaustion or dead from their wounds. And I watched them die, Professor. Do you have any idea what that was like?” Her voice was sharp and biting.

Byleth shook her head again, hearing the grief and the pain behind her anger. Wished that she could reach out and take some of that pain away.

“It was like getting your heart torn out,” Edelgard said. “Every time. Then it felt like they were trying to tear my heart out in truth.” Her hand went to her chest, fingers spread as if trying to protect what lay within. “That hurt too.”

“I’m so sorry, Edelgard.” Byleth said at last. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Edelgard looked at her with a raised brow. “You’re not the one who has to apologize, Professor.” Her voice hardened. “I will get my vengeance on the people who did this to me and my siblings one day. I will make sure that they never do that to anyone again.”

“Let me help you,” Byleth said fervently.

“Why?” Edelgard said, shaking her head. “Why would you help me, Professor?”

“Because it’s not right what they did, whoever they are,” Byleth said, heat in her voice.

“You didn’t know them.” Edelgard continued. “You are not a subject of the Empire. You don’t owe me anything.” Her voice was flat, her gaze shuttered, as if trying to keep Byleth away. And Byleth recognized the heat rising within her as anger.

“I don’t care about that.” Byleth said, turning to face Edelgard, putting her hands on her shoulders and holding tight. “I don’t care about those things. I care about you!”

“But why?” Edelgard cried out. There was pain in her voice, as if she didn’t understand, as if she didn’t believe…and something in Byleth’s heart broke at the thought.

“Edelgard…” Byleth leaned in close, breaking their gaze but wanting to be closer to her. Edelgard gasped but did not move away when she leaned in so close their foreheads almost touched and they breathed the same air. “I don’t know why,” Byleth said slowly, searching for the right words. She looked at Edelgard who was looking at her with an expression of almost aching vulnerability. “I don’t know when it happened or how. I don’t know why it makes sense. But I care about you and I…I would do anything to keep you safe.” She huffed out a breath, not knowing what else to say.

“I care about you too, Byleth.” Edelgard put a hand to her cheek, her touch soft and warm. “It doesn’t really make sense to me either. There are things I cannot tell you. Things you cannot know.” She shook her head. “But I _want _to tell you. I want to tell you things I haven’t told anyone. But I _can’t._” There was so much frustration in her voice. “Everything rides on me, Professor, everything. And if I tell you now –” 

Byleth put her fingers to Edelgard’s lips, silencing her. “Then don’t. Don’t tell me until it is safe to tell me.”

They stared at each other for a long time, until Edelgard finally nodded and Byleth dropped her hand. “One day, Professor. One day I’ll be able to tell you. And on that day, please…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “Please don’t leave.”

Byleth held her hand. “I swear it,” she said. Not caring that she was making a promise with terms she did not know. 

Edelgard smiled, a tiny smile as if thinking that exact thought. “I can’t ask you to swear on something you don’t know. When that time comes, you will have to make a choice. And I hope –” her breath caught, just for a moment, “that you will stay. But until then, Professor…” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, but when next she opened them, her smile was true. And there was a brightness, a lightness to her eyes, that hadn’t been there before. “Thank you for everything. You have come to mean so much to me, in so little time. I do not know what that means, when there is so much I have to do, but know that I do care for you, Professor. And I am grateful that you are here.”

Byleth nodded, her throat thick with an emotion she could not name. And then, just because it felt right, she picked up Edelgard’s hand and kissed it. Once, twice, brushing her lips over warm skin as Edelgard looked at her with eyes gone wide. Then Byleth stood and helped Edelgard to her feet.

“I should go and let you rest.” 

“Good night, Edelgard.” Byleth said, feeling the connection between them and knowing that she had to leave. But she couldn’t stop the husky note in her voice when she said her name, or the way her eyes couldn’t seem to leave Edelgard’s face.

“Good night,” Edelgard said, sounding slightly breathless. “Sleep well, Professor.”

When the door clicked shut, Byleth took a deep breath. Felt her heart pounding as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff about to fall. 

She walked away, never forgetting that night or the promise that she had made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes:
> 
> Welcome back. Thank you to everyone who is still reading this after several months break. To everyone who is reading this for the first time, thank you for picking up this fic. 
> 
> I was stuck on this chapter for a long time and couldn’t make it right. Now, I feel like there is a tonal shift in this chapter, and I wonder if it feels incongruent with what became before. But it felt right to me as I wrote it. So I hope it felt right to you. I had no idea there were so many emotions riding so close to the surface but Edelgard and Byleth surprised me. I wonder if they surprised you too.
> 
> Take care everyone, and hope to see you next time.


End file.
